


Vegeta's Tails

by Goldfishlover73



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-11 14:25:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 22,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldfishlover73/pseuds/Goldfishlover73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the first in my Compliation of Bulma/Vegeta stories called "Vegeta's Tails"<br/></p>
    </blockquote>





	1. First Tail

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in my Compliation of Bulma/Vegeta stories called "Vegeta's Tails"  
> 

The first time Bulma saw Vegeta’s tail, twitching slightly as he stalked down the hall in his Saiyan armor, she almost crapped herself.  
Almost.  
She pressed herself against the wall as he passed, which wasn’t necessarily unusual since the Prince of all Saiyan’s walked around like Capsule Corp was his castle, but it grazed her skin.  
Long repressed memories surfaced: Giant Monkey Goku thrashing his way through Pilaf’s castle; the sounds of children (and Yamcha) screaming at the tournament.  
Vegeta froze, whipping around to glare at her.  
She eepped.  
The tail ran up her leg, tentatively, curling around her thigh, as if inspecting her.  
It gave her thigh a friendly pat before slithering, as if saying ‘Why hello there! I’m his tail! And if you piss me off, I’ll fucking kill you, bitch!’  
All very sweetly.  
Bulma pressed herself harder against the wall as Vegeta’s cold eyes bore into her. His tail was twirling lazily in the corner of her eye.  
“Is there something wrong, woman?!” He seemed testier than usual. Maybe it’s because he hadn’t become a Super Saiyan yet, despite training nonstop for six months.  
Or maybe he was just as skeptical of that damn soft, fuzzy appendage as she was.  
“No-Nothing!” she tried to say sweetly, but the damn thing seemed to be waving at her. Mocking her.  
Vegeta’s eyes narrowed before his head snapped back, before turning back slowly, a homicidal smirk gracing his lips.  
Fuck.  
“Oh, I see now!” he said smugly. She shivered as his tail ran up her arm. He took a step closer, it inched around her neck; a fashionable neckerchief that was slowly wrapping itself around her throat.  
Joy.  
“Does it scare you, woman?” he was whispering in her ear, his hands on either side of her face. “Imagine what I could do to you with just my tail or your entire race for that matter!”  
Her mind had stopped at ‘you’ and she was trying very hard to focus on his manic laughter and not…other things.  
She hated her dirty mind sometimes.  
She snapped back to reality as her breath was swept away by the ungodly softness of his tail closing off her windpipe.  
“You-you wouldn’t kill me.” She gasped.  
His smirk widened and his tail tightened. “Oh really?”  
She raised a brow, daring. He growled.  
She snapped her wrist up before he could react, tugging hard on his tail.  
His smirk fell and his eyes crossed slightly as she saw his jaw set tightly. But his tail did slacken around her throat and glorious air entered her lungs once again.  
“Well, I guess that’s it then.” She whispered playfully as the tail slid down her frame again. “And here I thought the reaction would be a lot like getting kicked in the balls-”  
The wall next to her face exploded.  
She almost crapped her pants again.  
Almost.  
“Bulma! Are you-Oh god!” A loud thud farther down the hall as Yamcha slammed himself against the wall, the color completely gone from his face.  
Vegeta’s face contorted slightly as he pushed away from Bulma. She watched as his tail wrapped itself around his waist.  
“Do I smell urine?”  
Bulma smirked.


	2. GoodBye

“I can no longer stay on this planet.” Vegeta’s voice was eerily calm as he gazed up at the cloudless sky.  
Bulma tried to ignore the pull at her heartstrings as she nodded. “I know.” Usually, there would be a smart ass remark, an insult, the conversation ending in a ‘fuck you’ and one of them would storm off.  
But that was before.  
“I _must_ reach that pentacle, woman. I must become a Super Saiyan.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing back tears. Bulma Briefs did _not_ cry over any man.  
She watched out of the corner of her eye as his tail unwound from his waist, straighten in her direction, almost as if it was beckoning her to him.  
 _To be at his side_.  
She took a few steps closer. The soft appendage curled around her waist, squeezing gently. Her fingers curled around it, her thumb stroking the soft fur.  
It squeezed again.  
“Will you come back?” _Damnit!_ Her voice cracked.  
He was quite for a moment. “Once I have ascended.”  
“What about the androids?” she took a step closer. She could wrap her arms around him, force him to stay and protect her planet.  
 _Protect_ _her_.  
He grunted, but didn’t move away.  
“They do not scare me. Once I have reached Super Saiyan, I will save your _little planet_.”  
The air was heavy.  
“Vegeta, I’m-”  
“I know.” His tail tightened, though his voice sounded indifferent. The tip patted her stomach. “I will return.”  
He finally looked behind him; looked at her. Time seemed to freeze as reality slammed her with the truth, stealing the air out of her lungs. _When did I fall for him?_  
His hand was by her face, but she blinked and it was gone. He was looking back up at the sky. “I will return a Super Saiyan.” He barked, stepping towards his waiting ship. His tail slowly unwound, slipping over her hand, tugging her wrist.  
Almost making her reach out for him.  
As the tip trailed away, finding its rightful place around its owners waist-  
She felt suddenly cold.


	3. Baby Tail

The ship almost crashed as he tapped his foot as the single door opened agonizingly slow.  
He had done it.  
His body still seemed to glow as he jumped out of the ship. He repressed a laugh as he stalked towards Capsule Corp.  
He froze.  
The normal power levels of the humans was there; the scientist, the cook, the weakling and hi-‘the’ woman.  
And another.  
It was more powerful than all but the weaklings. _That wouldn’t last._ He thought as he ripped the door off its hinges as he stormed through the house, his body pulsing towards the new energy.  
He didn’t think about _it_. What had happened between the woman. He knew about it before he left, but now-this new power-  
It called it him.  
Crashing into the room that he used to call his own, he froze at the sound of _something_. His head whipped to the sound and he stood, frozen, glaring at _it_.  
 _It_ glared back.  
It had the ridiculous purple hair of its mother, but it had his power, his scowl, and his glare that could destroy planets.  
His nose.  
It was standing on two chubby legs inside a cage. Its small fingers curled around the bars. His heart pounded in his ears. _It is in there because it wants to be. It is allowing it. _His heart stopped when a long purple tail appeared from behind the boy. Undeniable proof that _this_ was his doing. His legacy.  
His knees almost gave out.  
“Vegeta!” he didn’t move at the sound of the woman’s voice.  
It seemed so far away.  
“Vegeta! You’re back!” She seemed to move slowly through his line of sight. She went to the cage, her smile widening as she scoped up the small creature. She turned to him, but he wasn’t there anymore.  
He was twelve years old again, about to meet with Freeza for one of their ‘special sessions.’  
She held the ting up to him. He took a step back. “Vegeta,” she sounded calmer though her grin was wider. “Vegeta, this is Trunks. Trunks,” she looked down at the creature, “Trunks, this is your-”  
“Don’t.” he choked. He felt his power level rise. The thing’s tail curling around his mother’s arm. Did he do that to his own mother at that age?  
 _The sounds of his own screams and bones snapping as the lizard’s sharp voice rang out in an almost sing-song voice, “Oh, little monkey” Freeza held his jaw firmly as he gritted his teeth, glaring at the Mongrel. Ignoring the pain in his legs, the warm sticky ooze trailing down his legs, his face, into his eyes._  
 _He would not cry in front of Freeza again._  
 _“Oh little monkey, imagine what would happen if you decided to breed” his voice was full of disgust. “Indulging in those primitive instincts of yours. We’ll, I suppose I’d just have to destroy them.” He struggled but Freeza had him by the neck. “Imagine little baby monkeys dangling by their tails as I slowly drain the blood of out of them.”He picked Vegeta up by the tail, Freeza’s own tail slowly drawing a line across his throat. “Or should I cut off those ridiculous tails first monkey? Maybe the whole spine would come with it-”_  
“Vegeta!” It was the woman’s voice, her palm against his cheek. “Vegeta.” She whispered.  
He smacked her arm away, stumbling back. “It’s not mine.” He seethed.  
 _“The royal line, and the whole dirty race ends with you, Vegeta.”_ He looked down at the woman and her child. He expected the fire to rise to her eyes. For her to challenge him.  
Not Fear.  
Not _Pity_.  
 _Fucking bitch._ “It’s not child of mine!” He slammed his fist into the wall, his voice cracking. Both mother and child (not mine!) jumped.  
“Vegeta!” her voice was too soft, too fucking _concerned_.  
He turned and stalked out of the room, the woman tight on his heels. His armor felt tight, claustrophobic as Freeza’s voice rang louder in his ear, drowning out the woman. He blasted through the door frame, taking to the sky, keeping his eyes glued on the mountains.  
Because every time he blinked, he saw that purple tail.  
III  
AN: A few things  
I made Bulma’s hair purple, because Trunks’ hair is purple. Her hair is originally purple in the manga. So now Trunks’ hair makes more sense! Ta da!  
I am also going with the fact that Vegeta can’t tell the difference between boys and girls. For those who have not watched the original DragonBall, Goku has a tough time telling the difference between girls and boys unless he ‘feels’ them. Despite the bit of morbidness to this story, I thought that was a funny concept. That Vegeta couldn’t tell whether Trunks was a boy or a girl.  
So he’s always called a child, or ‘it.’ Probably on the more morbid side, but whatever.  
I really enjoyed writing this. I’ve been in a slump on the whole ‘writing thing’ so I was really happy how this came out.  
Any confusion with anything? Please put it in the reviews! Thanks!  
~GF


	4. Glaring

Title: Glaring  
Fandom: Dragon Ball Z  
Author: Goldfishlover73  
Prompt: Family  
Word Count: 363  
Rating: G  
Summary: Bulma walks in on Vegeta and Trunks 'bonding'  
  
Bulma bit back the smile tugging at her lips.  
She sat on the couch, feet curled underneath her, _watching_.  
Vegeta and Trunks sat cross legged (or rather Vegeta cross legged, Trunks with his two _adorable_ , chubby legs out in front of him) across from each other, not two feet between them, glaring at each other.  
It was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.  
Vegeta’s dark eyebrows threatened to dip into his eyes, his brow crinkled as the baby mirrored his father down to the small pout.  
Neither made a noise, or gave in to the other’s glare. Bulma had to stifle a giggle.  
They had been like this since before she walked into the room, fifteen minutes ago. She doubts they even know she’s there.  
Vegeta’s tail, which Bulma has decided was her favorite part of Vegeta (followed closely by his abs) was against Trunks’ back, keeping him from tumbling over (though she doubted it was necessary). Trunks’ own tail was curled around his father’s, holding it in place. As they glared at each other.  
Bulma let out a squeak of joy.  
At the sound, Vegeta and Trunks jumped, one falling over and the other’s small fingers grasping his father’s tail.  
It was her turn to be glared at.  
Her smile widened.  
“Well?” she almost laughed as Vegeta pulled himself back up into sitting position, glaring daggers at her.  
Vegeta frowned before looking away. “He needs work, but he’ll do.”  
Bulma rolled her eyes before dragging herself off the couch. “We’ll I’m glad _he’ll do_.” Butterflies erupted in her stomach at his approval (finally) of his son. She went to scope her baby up, but paused, looking back over to the scowling Vegeta and back to the scowling Trunks. “I’ll just leave you two alone.” She huffed, standing straight up and stalking out of the room. Her footsteps were quick as she shuffled into the kitchen, startling her mother. She pressed her forefinger to her lips and counted to ten before tiptoeing back towards the living room, butterflies exploding in her chest.  
Just as she had entered the living room before, Vegeta sat scowling at their son, who scowled back, their tails interlocked.


	5. "Comforting"

Vegeta looked into the room with disgust.

The woman was crying _again_. “Humans are so weak.” He muttered as he watched her. She was on her stomach, her head in her pillow as her shoulders shook violently

“Bastard.” She sobbed.

“It is not my doing that you are crying!” he snapped.

“Not _you_.” She moaned, pulling herself up. Her face was red, swollen and stained with tears.

Her blue and red eyes stared at him. He scowled, crossing his hands over his chest, his tail tightening around his waist. “So weak!”

She rolled her eyes, walking over to her table that had a large mirror. She pulled at her eyes, poked at her cheeks and sighed deeply.

“No wonder he cheated. Look at me. So hideous…”

“He cheated? I knew he was a weakling. Can’t even fight fair with a woman.” He scoffed.

Bulma froze before bursting out laughing. Her hands slammed against the table as her shoulders shook _again_ and tears rolled out of her eyes _again_.

“Goddamn woman! Stop with your damn tears!” Before he knew himself, he was in her room and pulling her straight up, shaking her slightly. Her hands went to his biceps, gripping to keep her balance.

She was smiling. “No, I’m not crying anymore-no he-he was with another woman.” Vegeta raised a brow. She raised both of hers, “You _know_ …” she coaxed. “Another-”

“Was he trying to devour another woman’s face?” he asked disgusted. His mind flashed to the _multiple_ times he had seen these two humans licking and biting each other’s face.

He felt his stomach curl at the thought.

She started shaking again before she barked out laughter again, gripping him tightly, and head falling to his shoulder. His tail unraveled slightly from him, wrapping around her waist to pull her off him.

She was smiling widely. “That was kissing, Vegeta and yes, more or less. Well…more.”

“You humans disgust me.” He scoffed, finding an opening and dislodging himself from her.

She giggled. Fingers gripping his tail, keeping him from completely escaping. She rubbed the tip.

He looked back, scowling, but she wasn’t looking at him anymore. Vegeta knew that look-She was far, far away.

Vegeta scowled, his tail trying to escape, but it was hopeless. Her thumb ran down lazily. He felt his muscles relax slightly before he sighed. “Come on woman.” He took a step and she followed mechanically, his tail acting like a leash. He led her to his own room where he laid stomach down on the ground, his tail pushing her down on his back. “If you’re going to be more useless than usual, you might as well be helpful.”

III

Bulma blinked, her heart aching slightly.

_Yamcha, you bastard._

She then realized what she was sitting on (when did she sit down) was moving. She looked down and realized she was sitting cross legged on Vegeta’s back as he did pushups in his room, his tail between her fingers, methodically being rubbed. As soon as she stopped he sat up, making her slid off him.

“Leave woman. I must train.” He stood up, his tail whipping around his waist. He crossed the room, pausing at the door. He looked back to her, “and forget about that weakling. You might be a weakling, but you can do better than him. Someone worthy of your other strengths.”

With that, he left.


	6. Biting Each Others Faces Off

It was always strange what this woman could get him to do.

“I don’t understand why you waste your time with this shit!” Vegeta gestured to the screen.

The woman sighed, “It’s called TV.”

He looked over to her, “Yes, I understand what this device is, but why watch two attempt to eat each others-”

“Oh for fucks sake its called ‘kissing’ and you don’t use your teeth.” She put her head in her hands and he couldn’t help but grin.

“It’s not my fault. Many species eat their mates, how would I know that humans would be-”

“Shh! This is the best part.”

The male, who had larger muscles for a human male was slowly pulling the woman close to him, their lips meeting. He looked over to the woman who’s eyes were sparkling.

He frowned. “You never watched this shit when that weakling was around.”

She sighed, “I know.” Her voice seemed slightly disappointed.

He rolled his eyes. “No wonder humans are so weak-all they think about is sex.”

She looked at him skeptically. “Says the man who has never been kissed.”

He looked at her incrediously. “Like I would want to do-” he froze as he felt something press against his lips. All he could see was purple hair and a small hand clenching his thigh tightly. His body was trembling as she pressed her lips harder against his. His body screamed to grab her and throw her into the wall.

But he sat there and took it.

Even his tail betrayed him by wrapping around her waist, pulling her into his lap. He felt something warm run against his lips and he suddenly felt very hot. His hands fell to her hips, gripping tightly. her hand went from his leg to his wrists, pulling at his hands gently until he loosened his grip. Her hands then traveled up his arms to his neck.

Whatever that warm thing was broke his closed lips and his brain seemed to ‘click’ off.

His eyes were shut as his tail wrapped tighter around her as he pressed his fingers tighter on her hips again.

 _This taste_. It was so sweet-sweeter than any food he’d tasted on this planet as his tongue rubbed against it, forcing its way into her mouth.

He groaned as her fingers found his hair, pulling hard as she bit his tounge.

Breathing deeply through his nose his tail wondered up her shirt, making her- _so_ _soft_ \- squirm as his body screamed to slam her up against the wall.

 _And take her_.

And like it started-

It stopped.

That goddammned woman pulled herself off him, leaving him cold and mouth still agape. She pulled hard on his tail so it released her. But he didn’t feel it.

Something _else_ was throbbing.

She smirked, looking down at him, then to his spandexed pants before sauntering off.

“Tell me how the movie ends.”

Vegeta watched as her hips swayed, making his moth water.

With a few shaky breathes, Vegeta shook his head twice before jumping off the couch, _not chasing_ her. “Just what the hell was that!?”

 


	7. Interruptions

He was getting use to this ‘kissing’ thing.

It was like he was in the middle of a battle field. His hair stood on end as he pressed her against him, her straddling him as their tongues battled, her fingers digging harshly into his hair, his triceps, his forearms, legs, butt-

Fuck when she pulled his tail when he was like this it made him growl and buck his hips, making her moan his name.

He liked the sound of her moaning his name.

Her fingers were currently pulling at his armor, as his hands groped her breast as his tail made quick work with the zipper of her pants. She twisted under him, encouraging him his tail pulled at the offending, _tight,_ clothes his body humming at its prize she pulled her mouth away, kissing the skin on his exposed neck.

Before _biting_.

He gritted his teeth as he rubbed himself against her.

 _This really is a battle_.

His tail almost had her free of those god awful shorts when he froze.

“What is it?” she whispered, her blue eyes looking up at him.

“Fuck.” His tail pulled harshly _up_ on her pants before grabbing her waist and flinging her on the other side of the couch. He was up and out of the room before she could speak.

“Vege-”

“Hey Bulma!”

“ _Yamcha_!” the Prince could smell the flowers from here.

“Oh Bulma! You haven’t been crying again have you!?” The bastard seemed too cheery at the thought.

“No!” she huffed. “Just…” Vegeta smirked-he could _smell_ her thinking about him. “Talking to Vegeta…”

“Bulma you know I don’t like you spending time with him.”

Vegeta snorted, heading towards the Gravity Room. _Damn right you don’t._

 


	8. Trust

Vegeta gripped the cold can of sports drink as his body almost hummed. He couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. Nine hours of 300 times earth’s gravity. Could Kakarot say the same thing? Vegeta doubted it. Vegeta ripped off the top of the can, downing half its contents as his smirk deepened. He almost turned back and headed back to the gravity chamber. His energy soared as he felt like punching something. Perhaps he’d find the other Saiyan and destroy him.

_Pathetic low class wretch. If he thinks he could ever beat-_

“Yamcha, stop-”

“Bulma, you know I’m right.” Vegeta rolled his eyes as he heard the woman and her little mate bicker again. _If he would train half as much as he whined to that woman, he would maybe survive ten minutes in a fight with the small, bald one._ Vegeta snorted, rounding the corner to the living room.

“You just don’t know Vegeta,” Vegeta froze, taking a step back into the hall. “You just aren’t giving him a chance…” her voice was small.

“Oh really, Bulma? I’m not? You know as well as I do that he’s staying on this planet just to try to kill the android. He doesn’t care at all about anyone on this planet! He might even turn and kill everyone if he can manage to kill the androids! You shouldn’t let him just waltz around the house! He could kill us all!”

Vegeta peeked in the room. His brow furrowed. _What am I doing_ hiding _?_ The woman huffed, her hands on her hips. “I’m sure if he was going to kill anyone, you’d be the first on his list with an attitude like that.”

“He already had me killed once.” Yamcha’s voice was low. Not threatening, Vegeta was sure he couldn’t threaten the purple haired woman with anything. She might have been weak, but she was strong at the same time.

“And that was in the past.” Her hands fell before one came up to the bridge of her nose. “Listen, you don’t have to worry about me. He’s been here almost a _year_. I will be fine-”

“Fine?! _Fine_?! Bulma he-”

“You don’t know him like-!” Bulma turned towards the hall, but Vegeta was back in the shadows.

“What? Like you?” Scarface rolled his eyes, “You don’t know him.”

“Neither do you.” She snapped. “I’m not saying trust him, just-just trust me.” She placed her hand on his arm, smiling weakly. “He’s going to help save us. Have a little faith in him.”

The guy rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine. Just, watch out for him. Stay away as much as you can, alright?”

The woman nodded.

“Listen, I’m going to go train, I’ll be back in a few hours.” Vegeta rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the wall in the hall as he heard them press their lips against each other. He felt the Scarface leave.

The woman sighed. For a few minutes Vegeta stayed in the hallway.

“Well? Are you going to stay in their all day? Did you break the Gravity Room again?” she seemed tired.

Vegeta scowled as he strutted out of the hallway. His head tilted up slightly. “No woman, it is still acceptable.” He watched her watch him. He finished off the can, clenching it into a small ball.

She smiled softly. “You know, that’s not how you open those.” She reached over and grabbed the top he’d ripped off. She lifted a small tab and it clicked. She held the hole to her eye.

“Why did you say those things to him?”

“Hmm?” She handed the top back to him, her fingers brushing his palm, making it burn. He stared at her. She seemed…different.

“I don’t need you to defend me.” He pulled his shoulders back as far as they need. “His petty words don’t bother-”

“I know.” She looked down at the ground. “But it bothers _me_.” When she looked back up at him, he almost took a step back. Her eyes were shining. She wasn’t going to cry, this woman didn’t cry like the women on the television. “You’re not the way they think you are.” he frowned, but didn’t agree or disagree. “You act all tough-well, you _are tough_ but you’re not this evil bastard that you keep projecting.” He sneered but she didn’t let him speak. “I know you’re a good person, Vegeta. And you might not see it, and I know that most of everyone else on this planet doesn’t see it.” Vegeta blinked and she was suddenly _there_ , inches from him. _When had she moved?_ “But I can see it. And I appreciate that you’re here.”

How she was wrong, how she couldn’t read him as well as she could see, but the words wouldn’t fall. He swallowed as her bright eyes shined.

His heart beat heavily in his chest. He wanted to touch her. His tail brushed her legs, but wasn’t enough. His mind flashed to what it would be like to put his lips to hers, like he’d seen the other man.

She licked her lips.

He swallowed, brushing past her. “You should listen to your mate.” His voice wasn’t as steady as he would want it. Rage filled him. _She put me under some spell_. “You shouldn’t trust me as well as you think.”

She hummed. It rang in his ears as he turned, scowl falling off his face. Her face held a knowing smile; her fingers were rubbing his, _his_ tail. The traitor was wrapped around her waist, patting her stomach-something he’d seen his father do to his mother.

He felt his face burn before he stalked off.

 


	9. Meeting the Family

Bulma hid her smirk behind her glass.

Bra does not.

The dinner table is thick with tension and the only person oblivious to this is the one everyone is staring at. Or at least everyone but Bulma. Her blue eyes shift between Vegeta, Trunks and Trunk’s ‘little friend’ Amiko, who was gaping at the only person eating. Or, as it really was, shoveling food in his mouth.

Vegeta, who had been forced into a shirt (a buttoned down one no less) and even a _tie,_ was attacking his food like it was going to scurry away otherwise. If the poor girl knew how ‘non-royal’ Saiyans ate, her jaw wouldn’t be slack.

And Trunks’ face wouldn’t be red (the look in his eyes as they glared at his father reminded her of the first time Vegeta looked at her-ready to rip limb from limb).

“So, how’d you meet?” Bulma asked probably way too causally. Her daughter giggled.

The couple jumped, Amiko’s face reddening, looking down at her untouched plate. “At-at a company event.” Not surprisingly, Vegeta didn’t stop eating, but his eyes did drift to hers. She smiled. She remembered the _one_ event he had gone to.

It somehow ended up on fire.

They fell into silence once again, this time, the sounds of two plates scraping as Bra joined her father, and eating with enough vigor it would make Goku proud. She didn’t eat like that very often, but the look on his brother’s friend’s face made her forget her lady like training and match her father’s pace.

Poor Trunks.

“So…Mr. Briefs…” the girl stammered. Bulma had to give her credit for being brave.

Vegeta stopped eating long enough to swallow slowly and his gaze met hers. “I’m not Mr. Briefs.” He said before resuming.

Bulma snorted.

“Mom.” Trunks whispered. “Do _something_.”

Bulma took a shaky breath. “Well, he’s _not_ Mr. Briefs.” Trunks sent her a death glare, the lighter dishes on the table shaking.

“Boy.” Vegeta warned. The room fell into silence as Vegeta wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back, crossing his arms. “You wanted to say something, girl?” Vegeta’s voice calmed as his glare even softened.

“Um…y-yes… just…” she took a deep breath before a friendly, forced smile lit up her face, “What is it that you do for a living.”

Bulma bit her lip as Vegeta’s eyes came to hers, almost asking permission to answer. She shrugged. “I am the protector of earth.” Vegeta said smoothly, not looking at his son. “I train to prepare myself for the next dangers of the Universe who threaten this world.”

“Oh.” The girl nodded, looking over to Trunks, who had his hands buried in his face. “Well…that’s an…admirable…job, I guess.” Bra was squirming in her seat as Vegeta tried to keep the smirk off his face.

The girl laughed nervously before it _clicked_. “Wait…seriously?”

Vegeta nodded, “Trunks is as well-”

“ _Mom!_ ”

The girl sat straighter, “Does this happen often?”

“More than you would think.” He said seriously.

There was a pregnant pause.

“The food is delicious, mom.” Bra said more enthusiastically than she had ever heard before.

The rest of the table started eating.

Except Vegeta, who watched the girl.

After three minutes, Trunks jumped up, grabbing the girls hand probably a little _too_ harshly. “We have to go. We’ll miss our movie.”

Bulma nodded, “Have a good-”

“Have you told her about your tail, Boy?”

Trunks froze. Bra dropped her glass, it shattering on the floor.

“That’s low daddy.” Bra whispered.

_And that was the look he gave Yamcha when he touched me the first time after ‘it.’_

Trunks’ eyes were red.

“T-t-tail?!” the girl stepped away from Trunks and the rest of the Briefs. “You-you don’t…you don’t have a tail.”

“That’s right.” He said, though he seemed like he was trying to confirm with himself more than anyone else in the room. “I _don’t_.” his voice seethed as the dishes started to rattle more. Vegeta just sat there, looking rather smug.

The girl physically jolted. “The thing…” she whispered, making Trunks whip around to her. “The thing on your lower back!” her eyes widened. “ _Tail_.” She took a small intake of breath. “You told me that was a _birthmark_!”

“He _was_ born with a tail.” Vegeta said like it was obvious.”

“Ami-”

She stumbled back. “I-I need some time to think about this…” she muttered.

“Ami-”

“I’ll call you.” She smiled wearily at Bulma. “Thank you for dinner Mrs. Briefs.” Her smile faltered as her eyes found Vegeta. She quickly left.

Silence filled the dining room.

The dishes were clanking loudly, but nothing else. Bulma had to hand it to her son-she thought he’d been Super 2 by now.

Trunks opened his mouth, but Vegeta spoke first. “If the woman can’t accept your Saiyan as much as your human heritage, then she is not worth your time.” Trunks mouth shut, his shoulders pushed back. “I’m sure you haven’t told her about Majin Buu or Freeza’s henchmen or the dragon star-”

“And you wonder why I don’t bring girls home.” His words were directed at her.

She carefully picked her words. “I fell in love with your father despite him causing the death of friends and the destruction of countless worlds and even wanting to kill me.” She put her hand on her husband’s forearm lovingly, though he wouldn’t look at her. She patted it fondly.

“And what about when Bra brings home boys?” Trunks ignored his mother-it’s a story he’d heard one hundred times before.

Bra looked to her dad, whose brows furrowed. “Oh, this won’t happen with her.” Bra smirked evilly to her brother. Vegeta nodded. “Because she will not be around these _boys_.” It was Trunks turn to smirk.

“Daddy!” Bra squealed. Trunks and Bra started yelling at each other while Vegeta sat between them, rolling his eyes. His eyes met Bulma’s and she smiled.

_I love my family!_


	10. Why he's here

Vegeta smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. Despite the height difference, Yamcha felt very, very small.

He took a shaky breath-which Vegeta heard (of course).

His tail twitched.

Yamcha quivered.

"What do you want, you pathetic weakling?"

Yamcha felt a surge of bravery and opened his mouth, but that look on the Saiyan's face, the way  _his tail swirled, mockingly_ , the bravery left him like air leaving a helium balloon.

_Toodle-loo._

"I-I-I want-" he took a shaky breath, standing as tall as he could, staring down at the Prince. "I want you to leave Bulma alone." Yamcha  _really_  didn't like sparkle in Vegeta's eye. It looked like he was about to drown some kittens-and like it. "She's-she's a good girl and I don't want you-you-"

"Me what, weakling?" Vegeta was  _too fucking amused_. "Taint her with my evil aura? Perhaps we will touch the same piece of cheese in the cold box and my sheer evil will make her start drowning kittens in puddles."

Yamcha quivered at the mental image and the fact Vegeta almost read his mind. "No-just-"

Vegeta took a step towards him. Yamcha took a step back. It was a dance he  _would_  lose.

"Have you come to make up with her again? Beg for mercy? To the small, weaker-than-you girl?"

"She's not weak!"

"You're damn straight." Vegeta's voice was cold. Yamcha had to take a deep breath too make sure he hadn't been stabbed.

He felt so very cold.

He felt something warm and soft on his arm, his shoulders before it wrapped around his neck. He tried to relax but once his feet were off the ground and Vegeta stood looking smug as ever, Yamcha gave up and squirmed like a fish out of water. Despite the fact he was even taller than the Prince now, he felt even smaller.

He eeped, grabbing onto Vegeta's tail, yanking hard.

Vegeta just stood there.

For a few minutes, they stayed like that. Vegeta dangling Yamcha in the hallway of Capsule Corp like a pig at a slaughter house-all its blood pooling to the ground.

And all he had come over to do was  _fucking apologize_.

… _Again_.

A door down the hall opened. Vegeta's smirk widened. Yamcha's eyes drifted to see blue, wide eyes mouth agape, with purple hair askew.

Stepping out of a room that was  _not hers_.

III

AN:I'll be honest, I didn't really know how to end it, so it's an open ending.

And there is a story behind this.

I have been posting all my work on my dA, ff.net account as well as here. And there is a big Yamcha fan that goes around, telling me to stop bashing Yamcha.

And my reply was: "Do you scour dA looking for Vegeta/Bulma stories that have Yamcha depicted in a not so glamorous light just to exclaim your love for Yamcha? Everyone of my stories you have something negative to say about how I am depicting Yamcha. I'm a Vegeta-Bulma shipper, as you can tell with all my bloody stories and art. I have nothing that benefits you. Stop trolling!"

So their response was "stop bashing then. If you don't like him, why put him in the story?" Which bothers me for mutliple reasons. The main reason being the fact that there is no comma in 'stop bashing, then'

this person doesn't understand what the word 'comedic' is. So like the adult that I am, I wrote a this! I feel it doesn't do Yamcha justice. More ridicule and what not is needed. Its not that I don't like Yamcha- I do!...sort of...but using him for comedic purpose is much better than his actual purpose (which is to die).

But I can't complain about the annoying person on dA. Gave me inspiration! huuzah!


	11. Envy

He imagined her rough, calloused hands gripping the soft skin of his face. Wide, fearful brown eyes as he applied light pressure to his temple. Eyes bulging slightly. Only a bit more pressure, just a bit, and the poor little man’s skull would crack.

But, the image of blood oozing from his nose, mouth, ears and eyes didn’t give him the same satisfaction it would have before.

III

After he invaded Vegeta’s space- _his gravity chamber_ -Vegeta contemplated dragging him in the there, cranking it up to a ‘light workout’ (for the Prince of Saiyans at least) and watch as his own ‘muscles’ crush him.

His usual smirk? It was replaced with a frown-and a frustrated growl.

The tears would have done him in.

III

The Scarface was weak in many aspects, but Vegeta gave him credit where it was due-when it came to the purple haired woman, he was strong. He held his ground-properly defending his honor.

Apologizing when it was due.

III

 _The sad little human is so weak_. Vegeta stood watching the two of them in the yard. Despite it being morning, it was warm. The woman was teething a straw, smiling strangely at the weakling, who was smiling strangely back. They stood _very_ close but not quite touching.

If he had been anyone else, Vegeta might have felt like he was interrupting something special.

But Vegeta didn’t do such things.

Scarface’s eyes flickered to his. Time slowed as the ‘fighter’ stood straighter, putting his fingers on the woman’s arm lightly. Vegeta’s tail uncurled, whipping it around him before he snarled in disgust.

What was he getting worked up about?

Vegeta stalked to the gravity chamber, impatiently waiting for the door to open and then to close. He didn’t blink because he didn’t want to see that smile- the way she looked at the pathetic one.

He cursed himself as he set the gravity higher-higher than usual. _What am I getting so worked up over? I will ignore that weakling’s challenge. Not like it was really a challenge. If I wanted that woman, I could have her. Phhe! He is no competition-there is_ no _competition!_

Vegeta shook his head, cursing at the imagers of _her_ looking at _him_.  Not with pity-never with pity-but empathy and fucking understanding.

Vegeta didn’t hear the siren, alerting him to the start of the simulation.

The bot damn near killed him, knocking him off balance. He threw a ki ball and rolled, dodging another shot.

 _This is what I need. More training-no distractions_.

But every time he closed his eyes, he saw bright blue eyes.


	12. Promise

Vegeta’s heart felt heavy in his chest.

He stared down at the form, whom glared back at him, small chubby hands on the…crib or something…to him it was a cage.

Vegeta’s hands gripped the top of the cage. His mind reeled to his own father. The last time he saw him, the last few words they spoke. Vegeta had believed those lies and empty promises that made him endure the beatings and tortures that Freeza put him through. He could still taste the metal of his own blood.

He felt something on his wrist, bringing him out of his thoughts. The boy’s purple tail had wrapped itself around his wrist, pulling the boy to his wobbly feet. The glare was still there but his eyes looked deep into Vegeta’s.

A strong feeling of possessiveness encompassed him. His own tail wrapped around the boys neck and torso. Despite the little things glare, he nuzzled it.

Vegeta nodded. “Now listen here you.” he whispered. “You are only half Saiyan, meaning you are going to try twice as hard to protect yourself.” He gripped the bars harder, leaving dents. The strange boy from the futures words rang in his ear. “And I may not always be here to protect you.” He took a deep breath. “But while I’m here, I will do what I can to protect you.” The little bastard seemed to be looking at him saying ‘ _Duh’_

Vegeta glared at the boy. “Even it means killing you.”

The child stared at him blankly. “My father wasn’t as generous.”

He swore to himself that he would never put any offspring of his through what he had.

Vegeta put a heavy hand on his purple head. The boy continued to glare, but nuzzled his tail.

 

 


	13. A Princess

Vegeta hoped it would be a girl.

He watched as his woman got slowly bigger and bigger. She would stare at herself in the mirror at night, naked, frowning at her appearance. She would tilt her head to the side, lips puckered out slightly, brow furrowed. "I hope it's just as easy to lose now as it was with Trunks…"

Vegeta bit back a growl; he didn't know what it was about her like that that made him so possessive.

III

She kept asking him to feel the baby. Trunks would have his face flush against his mother's stomach, eyes wide and a ridiculous smile across his face. He would watch from a distance as family and friends ooh and aahed over her, all pressing their hands to her stomach.

When she asked, he just crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. But the smile she gave him made him think she knew the real reason.

That he felt the small warriors kicks when they slept.

III

"What do you want to name him?" Bulma asked one morning. Her hair was long again-she said something about good hair while she was pregnant. She was leaning against the counter as he rummaged through the fridge.

Vegeta's heart stopped. "Him?" he looked out at her.

She nodded, popping a grape in her mouth. She patted her round stomach. "I have a feeling it's a boy."

He frowned.

She rolled her eyes. "I know you're not the most excited about all this but you can at least help pick a name this time."

He grunted. Like she knew him. "How about Cabbage?"

She sighed, please don't use what we have the fridge. He growled.

_That was my grandmother's name._

III

Vegeta told the human in the hideous green pants and shirt that if they touched his offspring with the knife, he would remove her throat.

Trunks cracked his knuckles for effect.

Bulma rolled her tired eyes. "It's to cut the umbilical cord, dear."

Vegeta let his power level rise. "When the boy came back from this disgusting place, his tail was removed." He looked over accusingly at her. "I wasn't even sure he was mine."

Bulma smiled as Vegeta stalked after the nurse, who was fleeing to the nursery with her baby. "He's just excited." She looked up at her son, who seemed too big than he should be. "I think it's why he hasn't gotten rid of his tail. He was getting ready for some Saiyan ceremony or something…"

"Uh….mom?"

"Did the same with you, but he didn't know I knew. Heard him on the baby monitor."

"Mom…" Trunks interrupted. "My…uh…tail?"

"Didn't grow for the first few days." Bulma mumbled tiredly. "Scared the shit out of your grandfather." Bulma yawned. "Make sure your father doesn't kill anyone." She said as she drifted off the sleep.

III

Vegeta padded into the little room across the hall from his and his woman's. He'd finally scared everyone away and Trunks and his woman finally went to sleep.

Warmth spread across his chest as he looked down at his small offspring.

 _A female_.

His tale wrapped softly around the small thing, lifting her out of her basket. He gathered her in his arms, their tails interlocking. His body felt on fire as she gurgled slightly.

He bit back a smile while the pad of this thumb rubbed her cheek softly. He began singing a lullaby that his mother sang to him.

Bright blue eyes stared at him widely, little mouth parted. Her little blue tail wrapped around his tightly.

He moved her side to side. She smiled.

He couldn't help himself-he smiled back.

_A perfect princess._


	14. Breaking the News

Bulma bit her lip.

How was she going to break the news to Yamcha about her and Vegeta? It's not like she meant for it to happen! _It just…yeah…_ one moment she was arguing with Vegeta over 'God-knows-what' and the next…

Her face reddened.

_The worst part is Yamcha was right. He had thought I had a thing for Vegeta…and I didn't! Well, sort of._

"Hey, Bulma!" Bulma jumped as Yamcha entered the room.

 _Shit_. "H-hey…"

"We need to talk." His brows furrowed slightly. She gulped. _He already knows_.

He looked over her shoulder, his face reddening, "I-I met someone…" he peeked at her before looking away. "I know we haven't been dating for _months-_ " he gave her a small smile. "But I wanted to tell you. Ya know…in case you see us together. So you're not shocked or anything…especially angry." He laughed awkwardly.

She smiled. "Thanks." She said softly.

"I feel it's best for both of us. Moving on and stuff." _He seems more at peace than before_. She touched his arm. "I hope she makes you happy."

His face broke into a wide grin. "She does." Warmth spread through her chest.

"I'm glad."

He let out a small cough before squaring his shoulders. "Friends?" He held out his arms.

She smiled brightly, "Of course!" he pulled her into a hug. "Besides, we've been through too much not to be!"

Guilt slowly seeped into her stomach. _Shit_. "Well…while we're on the subject…" Yamcha pulled back, arms resting on her forearms.

"Hmm?" he raised a brow.

Bulma saw it out of the corner of her eye. "Yam-!"

A blur shot between her and Yamcha and with a giant crash, drywall dust filled the room. Bulma coughed slightly, waving the dust away as she heard a growl.

"Do _not_ touch her." It was low. It was dangerous. Bulma took a step back.

Vegeta had the tall man pushed against the wall by the throat. Yamcha seemed to relax before swinging his leg, connecting with Vegeta's head.

It didn't faze him.

Vegeta's tail grabbed his offending foot. He wasn't smirking, wasn't gloating, and wasn't doing any…Vegeta-like-thing. He was very, very quite.

Yamcha's life flashed before her eyes and she reacted quickly. She ran across the room and yanked at Vegeta's tail.

 _Hard_.

Vegeta froze, giving Yamcha the opportunity to escape, slumping against the wall, cradling his throat, taking shaky breathes.

"You-you wanted to tell me something!?" his voice was a few octaves higher than usual. His eyes more pronounced. Probably from almost popping out of his head.

She smiled shakily.

III

So, I wrote this a while ago...I've started to type up the stories that I wrote on paper...I have quite the little stack!

More Updates soon!


	15. Same Boy Different Briefs

Bulma stood, hands on her hips, bracing herself. The Gravity room door slid open silently as Vegeta stepped out. Sweat shined off his chest, making her knees melt as he stalked towards her. His lip was curled in a growl. She gathered herself, "Now hold on." She held out her hands to stop him. Like this is going to stop him.

Her eye caught something behind him and her hand shot out to grab it. Vegeta caught her wrist easily, his tail wrapping around his waist. He smirked smugly, "It's been too long woman. That little trick won't work on me anymore." She rolled her eyes before pressing herself against him. His eyes widened before narrowing.

She pried her hand fro his, wrapping both arms around his neck. "But this does." She whispered into his ear. She knew her Vegeta. If he's interrupted in the middle of training, only two things can calm him down.

And she's hoping to stop one with the other.

His eyes dilated, his tail unwinding around his waist and slowly wrapping around hers. She smirked as his hands gripped her hips. "Why is he here?" Vegeta's voice hissed darkly.

Her eyes widened, trying to push away, but his tail held her as he hoisted her on his shoulder. She struggled but it was no use.

"Listen, Vegeta, I know you don't like him but-"

"Trunks is not here." Bulma felt her hair stand on end as he went Super. Oh shit. "Why is he here?!" Bulma's mind screamed Do something!

Because he already knew why he was here.

Bulma reached and pulled Vegeta's tail, but it didn't phase him. "I told you that won't work, woman." The door exploded as they made their way towards the living room.

"Mom!" Trunks was hurrying towards, them, looking scared. It felt like a static charge was scourching Bulma's skin.

"Do not destroy my house!"

Bulma felt them come to a screeching halt. Bulma couldn't see, but there was only one thing that could stop Vegeta when he was like this.

"Daddy." Bra's voice was small and quivering slightly.

Bulma shared a look with Trunks before rolling her eyes. Trunk's eyes snapped up, looking over Vegeta's shoulder (or Bulma's ass-really one-in-the-same at this point), mouthing Run. Bulma tugged on Vegeta's tail once more before he finally released her. She rolled off his shoulder, being braced by his tail for a split second before she fell to the floor.

Luckily, her loving son helped her to her feet. She brushed herself off before surveying the damage. Vegeta had the look of death in his eyes as he glared at the poor, poor bastard on the couch. His shirt was rumpled, face flushed, and eyes wide. Bulma' noticed a mark on his neck that was already fading. But it wasn't as bad as Bra's.

Bulma swore she would never judge her daughter-she had her first boyfriend live at her house until long after they had stop dating and Bulma had had some other man's child. But Bulma didn't have…Vegeta as a father.

She really should have known better.

"Daddy…" Bra took a step towards her father, who, by the feel of the air, was about to go Super 2.

Vegeta shoved her out of the way, sending her crashing though the TV stand. "I'm going to kill you."

"Goten, run!" Trunks yelled, but Goten Son was already on his feet, Super, and in a defensive stance.

Time slowed, all eyes on Vegeta. Bulma was wondering how to break the news to ChiChi of her baby boy's death when Bra stumbled out of the once TV and let out a loud exasperated sigh/scream. "Daddy! This is stupid!" She stalked over to Goten, putting her hands on her hips and stamping her foot, shaking the house.

"Uh…Bra…?" Goten made a move to touch Bra. Trunks pulled Bulma away from Vegeta as he jumped to Super 2. Bra stood her ground.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes at his daughter. Like a curtain being pulled away, her whole demeanor changed. She 'pouted.' "daddy, I thought you would approve of Goten." Bulma cringed at the poor choice of the word "Goten."

Vegeta was growling.

Trunks laughed.

"He's-he's strong, he's half Saiyan and-and he care about me." Bulma had to admit, the tears were a nice touch.

"He's Kakarot's spawn."

"he's strong! Stronger than any other boy on Earth!"

Trunks cleared his throat.

Everyone ignored him.

Vegeta's power level dropped slightly as he crossed his arms. Bulma silently cheered, throwing her daughter the thumbs up as Goten slowly crept towards the door.

They all froze as Vegeta returned to his normal stated and stalked out of the room.

"Well…" Bulma said after a few minutes. "At least you're not dead…one less thing I have to explain to ChiChi…"

"I don't understand why you thought this would be a good idea!" Trunks failed his arms around the room.

Bra huffed, crossing her arms, "Daddy just needs to relax."

Bulma frowned. "You're father doesn't relax." She pointed a finger at Goten. "And you should have known better."

Goten opened his mouth, but Bulma sighed. "But, I guess resisting the Brief…" she looked to her daughter, "'charm' is impossible." She pinched her nose. "Go before Vegeta decides he's going to kill you."

Goten didn't have to be told twice.

Trunks sighed. "I guess I'll go give father a punching back." He sent a dirty look to his sister. "The things I do for family."

Bra stomped her feet. "This isn't my fault."

Bulma sighed, leaving her pouting daughter alone in the living room. "I hope Goten knows what he's getting into."

Trunks sighed.


	16. Parent Teacher Conference

The man behind the desk looked warily up at Vegeta who was leaning against the wall, who, for effect barred his teeth. The man jumped slightly, making Vegeta smirk.

Kakarott's woman glared at him. He let his tail waggle at her. He knew how much she hated when he had his tail. It was proof that her husband wasn't truly human...or something...Vegeta never really cared to find out. He just knew he looked down at his own boy for his heritage and that's what bothered him.

The said boy looked back at him from his seat next to Kakarott's youngest, who sat next to his mother, all their chairs facing the man behind the desk, he grinned just like his old man.

Vegeta was so proud.

“I think we should wait for Bulma.” Kakarott's woman spoke shrilly.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. “We've wasted enough time.” The man nodded slowly-he wasn't sure who to be more afraid of.

“It seems...” Vegeta smirked, Chi-chi turning to scowl at him quickly. “That the boys have taken up fighting at recess.”

“Goten!”

“But Mom-!”

“I told you not to fight at school! Was it Trunks who put you up to this!?”

Vegeta growled. “Who were they fighting?”

The teacher hesitated. “Well...well they were fighting each other...”

“Has any _other_ children died?”

“Died?!”

“Vegeta!”

The man tried to compose himself. “Well...no-no one has died...”

“Hurt?”

“N-No.”

“Then why are we here?” He could practically hear his son smirk.

“But, but Mr. Briefs.”

“I am not 'Mr. Briefs.'” The man stared, mouth slacking before he readjusted his glasses.

“But...Mr....Sir, they blew up a few trees and made a Goten size hole in the baseball fence.”

“What is _baseball?_ ”

Vegeta enjoyed the way the man squirmed. “Well, base-baseball is-”

“Perhaps,” Vegeta cut him off, “Perhaps Goten should have dodged.” Trunks turned in his seat, eyes watching his father with awe. “If no one was hurt, no human child is dead,” (Vegeta ignored Chi-Chi), “tell me why you're wasting my time.”

The man gaped at him. “Son-kun went _through a fence_!”

“And your point?”

“Little boys don't _go through fences_ , Vegeta.” Chi-chi narrowed her eyes. Vegeta stood straight, his tail twitching causally. Chi-chi's eyes flickered with each flick his tail made.

“You know...” the man spoke quietly, eying the woman cautiously. “I don't understand how they aren't hurt.” Vegeta watched with a raise brow, “It would have put _me_ in the hospital...going that velocity.”

“And know you know you are weaker than a seven year old and a six year old.” Vegeta raised his ki, making the man back farther into his seat.

“So we are done here now?” it wasn't really a question.

The man nodded quickly. “Yes.” he said in a small voice.

“Come, boy.” Vegeta pushed himself off the wall, watching as Trunks hoped out of his seat. Kakarott's son followed suit, despite his mothers screeching.

As Vegeta pushed open the front doors to the school Chi-Chi rounded him. “You know you can't just scare people into submission.”

He smirked, “Funny, I think I just did.”

Before the woman could yell, he was saved.

“Sorry I'm late!” Bulma came running towards them. “Is everything okay? How'd it go?”

“Dad took care of everything!” Trunks exclaimed, making Vegeta smirk widen as Chi-Chi scowled.

“Yeah! Vegeta got us out of trouble!” He felt the female was going to speak so he turned to the boys.

“I do not want my time wasted again!” he spoke harshly, but the boys smirked at one another. “If you wish to train, the either stay at home-”

“Vegeta!” Both women hissed.

“Or wait until you are out of the confounded place.” he waved his hand half halfheartedly. “Play...kickball or something...” he said with distaste. He looked at his woman, who smiled fondly at him.

The boys grinned.

He stalked past his wife, smirking. “And you thought I couldn't handle something so trivial.”

The loud woman screeched something to Bulma, but he ignored it, stalking off towards the parking lot before taking the to sky, his son and his friend close at his heels.

 


	17. Civilian Clothes

"Vegeta!" Bulma's voiced echoed through his chambers. She sounded exhasperated- _but then again..._ Vegeta rolled his eyes,  _she always did_.

Trunks was sitting on the toilet, swinging his legs, peering up at his father shyly. Vegeta could see uncertainty in his eyes.

They mirrored Vegeta's own.

"God! You're worse than Yamcha!" Trunks winced from his perch. Vegeta rolled his eyes, his hands on his hips. "Your mother forgets that her mumbling can be heard throughout the house."

"Yeah." Trunks' voice reminded him of a true Saiyans. Full of authority. "I know." Trunks glared at his father now, who glared back. It was better than looking at himself in the mirror. "Goten says he doesn't have to hear his mother's 'mummblings' at night."

Vegeta hadn't had a reason for this smirk for few years-the smirk of evil. "Well son, perhaps one day it will help you in the war of finding a suitible mate on this planet." Trunks made a face, making him laugh. "Kakarott's son will have no idea the proper noises of a satis-"

" _Dad_!" Trunks covered his ears, shaking his head. "I have told you we aren't talking about- _that_ \- ever again! I'm too young!"

Vegeta scoffed, looking at himself in the mirror again. "You are almost a man, Trunks."

"I'm nine."

"When I was your age-"

"Yeah, yeah, mass killings, destroying planets..." Trunks tried to sound bored. He tried to act like he didn't like hearing the exciting stories of his fathers past-but his eyes shown. "Heard it a thousand times."

Vegeta knew Trunks like them because Vegeta didn't sugarcoat them. He didn't say how he was ashamed of himself for what he did. He just states what it was (with slight embellishments).

"You look...fine...Dad."

Vegeta stared at himself in the mirror. He  _hmphed_.

Fine was not the proper word. He was in a button down cotton shirt (black, as he agreed) with dark pants that Bulma had called 'jeans.' he wore brown leather boots that Trunks said he picked out.

"Maybe if you'd gotten a 'Saiyan Blue' shirt." Trunks said helpfully.

"Well, it's too late for that." Vegeta snapped. Trunks shrugged. Vegeta sighed. He promised Bulma.

The knob on the door shook violently. "You  _locked_  the door!?" Bulma banged on the door. "Vegeta! We're going to be late! It took me  _months_  to get this reservation!"

"You better go, Dad." Trunks mumbled. "You know how she gets."

"Yeah." Vegeta said, loud enough for the woman to hear. "When she gets bitchy, she gets loud."

Trunks tried his best to keep back his snicker. "Goten doesn't hear his dad say things about his mother that way."

"That's because Kakarott doesn't have a spine." Vegeta stood up straight, turning on his heel and stalked the two feet to the door. He ripped it off the hinges, making Bulma stagger back a few feet.

"It's about-" Bulma stopped, her mouth slightly agape. Her face reddened slightly. "Wow."

"He looks pretty weird, right Mom?" Trunks hopped off the toilet before scampering out of the room.

Vegeta shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Well, woman!?"

Bulma smiled sweetly. "I think you look very nice." she crossed the room, kissing him on the cheek. "You know..." she said sweetly. Vegeta rose a brow. She usually didn't talk like this until after dinner. "We're running really late-you'll probably just have to fly us there." Vegeta grinned.

"It  _has_  been a while."

"We'll be showing up in style." Bulma reasoned, smiling.

Vegeta's smirked widened, scooping up his woman, strolling towards the window. Her arms tightened around his neck as he ripped open the window and took flight.


	18. Traitor

Bulma entered the living room, still wiping the grease off her hands. The TV was playing some car chasing explosion movie with Vegeta's hair poking out from the couch. "I finished my maintenance." she called, rounding the couch.

She froze, smiling softly. Vegeta was sitting straight, chin propped on a closed fist that was against the arm rest. His eyes were close, his usual furrowed brow completely relaxed. Soft snores came from his direction.

 _You really have been pushing yourself too hard..._ she sighed. She eased herself on the opposite side of the couch, sighing heavily as her muscles relaxed. He body ached slightly from her maintenance on the gravity room.  _We don't want it blowing up again_. Bulma looked over to Vegeta again, who didn't seem to realize she was there.  _Either he is so far gone he can't sense me or he doesn't care. Probably doesn't care_. She ignored the warmth that spread in her chest at the thought as she pushed the smile away. She reached for the remote that sat on the middle cushion, turning the volume down before flipping through the channels. Landing on a sappy romantic comedy.

She closed her eyes and relaxed. Slowly drifting to sleep.

III

She jumped slightly at the feel of something on her hand. Her eyes scanned the room before the she remembered where she fell asleep. She was still in the living room, the romantic comedy still on the TV, Vegeta still snoozing next to her.

She looked down at her hand and butterflies exploded as she held back an excited whine.

In the few minutes she was asleep, his tail had grown back. It had taken over the middle cushion and was tapping her hand methodically. Let a few fingers brush the end. Vegeta sighed, still asleep, sinking lower in the couch. Bulma smiled widely as she let her fingers become a bit more brave, skimming the top a little more. Vegeta didn't seem to mind as his tail uncurled it self more, moving closer to Bulma. She smiled and leaned back, letting her fingers run the last foot of the tail softly. Her attention went to the movie, very aware of the small tapping of the end of the tail against her leg, she assume contently.

She felt sleep coming over her. She shrugged.  _I'll deal with the consequences of touching his tail when he wakes up...I don't care._  Her fingers curled lightly around it, thumb still moving. The tail curled a bit more around her legs, but didn't try to escape her grasp.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

III

Vegeta blinked warily as he straightened up on the couch.  _When the hell did I fall asleep!? Is that woman done with her-_ Vegeta froze as he felt something next to him. He growled to himself, cursing that he let someone get so close while he slept. He turned his head, and was shocked to see the purple haired woman using him as a pillow. Her head was against his shoulder, her arm looped in his (no doubt what woke him up). Her eyes were closed, her breathing even. She was wearing her dirty jumpsuit-the one she only wore when she was working. He frowned, "What makes you think you can do this?" he cursed himself. Why was he whispering?

It was then when he noticed something. Like something clicked in his brain.  _Dammit..._ He looked to see his tail wrapped securely around her. It probably dragged her from the other side of the couch.

"Traitor." he murmured, slumping back against the couch. He thought of his options: picking himself up, jostling her, probably making her yell loudly.

Or he could sit there, wait for her to wake up and then yell at her for being so close, or he could yell now and wake her up. He looked at her again. He lifted his free hand to her face, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. She sighed, snuggling more into him. He retracted his hand fast, heart pounding in his chest. He frowned, ignoring his mind's comment about how  _soft_  she was.

He looked towards the Television, sighing. Or he could just wait until she woke up and left before he got off the couch.

He sighed. The screen showed two humans (he supposed a man and a woman), latching onto each other, moaning and pulling off clothes. "Just what in the hell do you watch, wo-" he felt his face heat up as he looked over to her, pausing when he noticed the small smile on her face.

"I should kill you." he murmured, settling back on the couch, propping his head on his fist, closing his eyes. He'd rather think of battle strategies than what this-this  _pornography_.

Vegeta didn't realize he'd fallen back asleep until he woke up feeling cold.

He scowled, pulling himself up from the couch and stalking towards his living quarters. He needed to take care of his little traitor before he went back to training.


	19. 8:45

Bulma sat across from her mother. Both women had their fingers gripped a bit too tightly against their steaming hot coffee mugs. Empty desert plates lay forgotten as they pressed the steaming mug to their lips, smirking at one another.

It was almost 8:45.

Bulma felt her heart race in anticipation.

The sounds of moving upstairs made her jump slightly. Her mother simply tutted against her cup before taking a small sip, setting the cup down and standing. She pressed the invisible wrinkles out of her dress as she strolled to the oven, her hips sashaying as she walked.

Bulma watched her mother bend over, pulling a large roast out of the oven. She wondered if that would ever be her; a house wife. She tried to picture herself in her mother's clothes, moving easily around the kitchen like she moved around the laboratory. Bulma could barely manage a sandwich, let alone a roast.

She tried to think of these things-about her future and not the sounds coming down the hallway-small pads of feet-graceful, elegant.

Princely.

 _Luckily, Yamcha could live off sandwiches._ Bulma thought as the sounds of feet moved from wooden floors of the hallway to the laminated kitchen. She swallowed thickly as her throat dried as she stole a glance up.

She shuddered as Vegeta strolled past.

“Here, Vegeta, Sweetheart!” Bulma had to admit that her mother could play it cool in any situation-not something she inherited. “Slow roasted, but with a little 'oink' still left in it!” her mother laughed, probably a little higher than she meant to.

Bulma barely registered the grunt of approval from Vegeta. She was too focused on his back.

His god-like back.

His shoulder muscle's muscles twitched. Each inch of his tan skin held a rigidity-a firmness that made Bulma take a big gulp of coffee. It was so smooth, yet so hard. She soaked in the sight-like she did every night at 8:45-greedily.

Though Vegeta's shoulder's were impressive, chiseled- _ripped for fucks sake_ \- the small of his back seemed so vulnerable. So smooth, almost like her own.

It was her favorite part really.

“How was your shower?” she asked casually, watching the beads of water drip from his hair, rolling down his-

Vegeta turned swiftly to the table, making Bulma's eyes snap up to his. “You're tail grew back today?”

He frowned, plopping down in the chair to her right.

“Last night.”

She hummed as she watched it flick behind him. She knew he had control over it-he kept it in check most of the time. But as she watched his eyes dilate slightly as Bulma's mother put a knife and fork between them, his tail wrapped itself slightly around her mother before slithering away.

It's Vegeta's strange way of saying 'thank-you.'

Her mom's usual cheery 'no, thank you!' came out a bit like a purr.

Her mother winked at her before taking her place on the other side of Vegeta.

They watched him eat.

Muscles twitching slightly with every movement.

Bulma had taken to watching his thigh muscle. Despite spending a majority of her youth with a Saiyan man, she never got to...properly appreciate how a muscle in their leg bulged out. She licked her lips, forcing her eyes up his ribs ( _do men really have muscles there?_ ), up his arms, pausing at his neck before moving to his face.

She cleared her throat. “Gravity room alright?” it sounded lame, but Vegeta wouldn't notice the small whine in her voice.

He grunted. “It is adequate for now.”

“Bots?”

He paused. She watched as gears turned in his head. “They will need replacing tomorrow.”

“I can fix them tonig-”

He shook his head-his neck muscles pulsing slightly. “No point. I will have them destroyed regardless by tomorrow.”

“Now, don't go blowing up my hard work for the hell of it!” she snapped, forgetting about his physique for a moment. “You wouldn't have said anything if I hadn't asked! And came bitching to me tomorrow about it!”

“The Prince of all Saiyans doesn't _bitch_!”

“What would you call this!?”

Bulma didn't know when it happened, but they were both standing, nose to nose. His right hand held the roast bone menacingly, juices dripping on the floor.

She scowled, but her inner self was screaming/swooning over the _heat_ he emitted.

“I am simply trying to keep you from wasting your time.” he said lowly. It came out as a growl, but from the way his tail was slithering under her mini-skirt to her bare thigh, she didn't think he was really mad. “It will give you time to work on a more _adequate_ piece of equipment.”

“Don't give me that shit.” she put her hands on her hips. “You just want to blow it up.”

His smirk mad her heart drop and her knees threaten to buckle. “And what if I do?” his voice oozed with the challenged threat. “What are you going to do about it?”

She smirked, moving in closer. The front of her shirt brushed his bare chest. Warning bells were going off as she felt his tail tighten on her, his hand brushing her wrist. “I'll just have to actually try.” her voice was almost a whisper.

“You think you could defeat me?” his voice had dropped to as his fingers- _his fucking fingers had more muscle in them than me_.

She snorted as her stomach erupted into a thousand butterflies. “Like it would be hard?”

“You're intelligence will be the end of you.” she felt each puff of breath from him on her lips. His eyes flicked from her eyes to her mouth and back up again.

“The end of you, maybe.” she barely spoke as his hand gripped her forearm gently.

His smirk as soft, “I think not, wo-”

“ _What the hell is going on here!?_ ” There was a large crash. Bulma stumbled back as Vegeta pushed her roughly away, his tail curling around her waist to keep her from falling until it was out of reach.

Bulma looked over Vegeta's shoulder. Guilt washed over her like a Tsunami. “Ya-Yamcha!”

Vegeta's tail was lifting Bulma's mother off the floor as Vegeta took a giant bite out of his roast. He scowled at Yamcha. It wasn't a 'you just ruined something' scowl, a normal 'pathetic human' scowl Vegeta wore usually.

Yamcha gawked at Vegeta.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?!”

Vegeta looked to her before shrugging. “I don't know what-”

“And you!” Bulma was about to defend herself (pathetically) when she realized he was talking to her mother. “Why are you letting him walk around like this?!”

Bulma lifted a brow before looking to Vegeta, gasping loudly.

8:45

“What is that suppose to mean!?”

Vegeta took a large chunk out of roast before slamming the bare bone of the table.

“You're not wearing any clothes!” Yamcha hissed. Yamcha looked around, blinking at Bulma. “And Bulma's here!”

Vegeta looked over to Bulma before back to her boyfriend. “You're _bitching_ because I'm not wearing garments?”

“I don't know how Freeza did things, but on Earth we always wear clothes!” Yamcha tried not to take in everything, but it was hard to do.

It was all out there.

 _All of it_.

Before anyone else could speak, Bulma heard her mother clear her voice loudly. “Well! I don't think _anyone_ was expecting you home so soon Yamcha!” she was cheery, but a little short breathed. “Why don't we all get...” she cleared her throat, “'more comfortable' and I'll make some cookies!” Bulma looked between the two men and her mother before her mind snapped back into place.

“Yes! Cookies! Yes, come on, Yamcha. You need a shower!” she bound to him, looping her arm through his.

“And you have fresh clothes on your bed, young man!” Bulma was sure her mother was the only one able to usher Vegeta anywhere. “You just go ahead and put those little shorts on at least and come back down for some after workout cookies! Chocolate chip!” she shooed him out, patting his bare rear-end out of the kitchen. Vegeta's eyes met Bulma's for a moment-she felt the tip of his tail brush her leg lightly before he was gone.

“Do you let him do that!?” Yamcha asked as Vegeta left and Yamcha pulled her towards their living area. “Just walk around naked?”

Bulma shrugged. “It's the first time I've ever seen it.”

III

Bulma's mother leaned against the counter after the kid's left, pressing a hand to her chest, willing her heart to slow down. She fanned her self for a moment before she started moving around the kitchen.

She smiled brightly to herself as she heard Bulma lie to Yamcha.

She let out a small squeak. “Those two will make such cute babies.”


	20. Enough

AN: This might be a bit steamy for some.

For others not steamy enough.

You've been warned.

III

"Enough!"

Their lips crash as his hands grabbed the back of her neck and her leg, pulling her roughly against him. Her hands found the back of his neck as she clamored and clawed, wrapping her legs around him. Her mouth was open and his tongue inside her mouth, battling with hers before her legs were firmly locked behind him, his hands under her thighs as he carried her.

Her head spun as her hands found his hair, moaning at  _finally_  being able to touch it. To  _know_  how it stood up. If it was course (of course not. Thick, but soft. Not conditioner soft though. Manly soft. Vegeta soft.) She pressed her breast against him as she pulled harshly on his hair. He growled, tightening his grip on her thighs as she ground into his already hardening erection. He kicked open a door, ripping it off the hinges as her nails trailed down his scalp, down his neck.

Their kiss broke and she lapped at his jaw, his neck as he walked with focus into the room.

Something curled around her waist, flinging her across the room, landing roughly on something almost soft, rattling it harshly. She usually would have yelled at him-he'd broken another door- _her door_ \- but as his tail threw her on the bed, his hand hand ripped her jumpsuit off her, leaving her in her black laced thong and white cover shirt.

She watched him survey her from the edge of the bed for a moment. Time seemed to stop.  _Would he go through with it? There was still time_ -

He growled loudly before crawling on the bed, stalking towards her. He kissed up her leg, pausing for a beat to singe off her lacy garment with ki that almost burned her skin.

She moaned loudly, desire building up in her as her body felt like it was full of a liquid fire.

His tongue darted out at her breast, flicking the bud, making her shutter before his mouth found hers again.

His calloused fingers ran up her side, pausing to grip her breast.

He felt his warm member against him.

"When did you take your-"

"Don't ask stupid questions, woman." he said roughly before kissing her neck, making her mewl weakly. She reached down, wrapping her fingers around his erection, making him freeze.

She looked at his face, smirking. His eyes were closed, his arms shaking to hold himself about her.

He took a few shaky breathes.

She stroked slowly, watching as his mouth flew open.

"How long?" she whispered.

"Don't...ask..." he took a shaky breath before opening his eyes. "Stupid...woman..." she smirked, squeezing gently.

A low rumble filled the room as Vegeta captured her lips with his, his tail lifting her waist to his. He pulled back to look at her. She felt a sharp jolt as butterflies erupted in her stomach. His face was slightly flushed, his breath hitched slightly as he trembled under her touch. Bulma swallowed thickly as he dipped down, kissing the nape of her neck with open mouth kisses. She moaned his name, giving him a few swift strokes. He hummed in approval as one hand lifted off the bed and moved down to her sex. She felt his fingers brush against it and they both moaned.

"Move." he barked.

Her fingers weren't free of his member a beat before he thrust into her.

She gasped loudly, wrapping her legs tightly around him.

"God-damnit." he whispered before looking at her, slightly dazed.

She bucked her hips. "Move."

He didn't need to be told twice.

III

AN: Short and sweet.

I know it's what you all have been waiting for.

So there.

I think I'll do a more...detailed one...sometime....

So I'll figure it out.

Until next time!

zzzzz...


	21. Experiment

Bulma was a woman of science. It was in her nature to be...curious.

She had always known that Goku was a strange creature. I mean...he had a  _tail_. Little boys didn't have tails (well...except Gohan. But she chalked that up to genetics.) But there were some things that she couldn't test with her small, now large friend.

But now, she had a new test subject.

"What in the hell is this!? Poison?" Vegeta snarled. He sniffed the glass she offered him.

She sighed. "It's called 'Apple Cider.' You know apple, right?"

He looked at her disgustingly. "Do not patronize me, woman." he sniffed it again. "It's not just apples." he looked at her skeptically. "What else is in there?"

She leaned back on her heels. "Well, you know there's sugar...and cinnamon...you know cin-"

" _Woman."_  he said dangerously.

She crossed her arms, "And something called 'allspice.'" she huffed. "Don't worry, my mom uses it in half the food she makes." She watched as he sniffed again.

"What else?"

"Um...nutmeg? I think?" he glared at her and she sighed dramatically, plucking the drink from his hand and taking a sip. It instantly warmed her insides and stopped her knees from shaking. "See? Safe. I just want to see what you think of it since  _I_ made it."

He rolled his eyes. "Then I doubt it's edible."

Despite herself, despite knowing better, she smacked in stomach. Unlike with her EX boyfriend, she put in all her muscles, though he didn't even seem to notice it.

He did smirk, taking a slow sip.

She watched with baited breath.

He shrugged. "It's acceptable." he downed the rest of the tall glass in one go.

She grinned manically. "How about another? I made lots. Two barrels!" she motioned for him to follow her into the back yard.

He looked at her warily before following her into the back yard.

III

Four hours later, the sun was setting and Bulma decided her experiment wasn't going as plan, but it did have minimal success, so she considered it a victory.

Vegeta's cheeks were slightly flush, but that  _could_  be because of the 1000 push ups he was doing. She made note of how his muscles twitched (for scientific purposes) and how he allowed her to sit very close. Close enough that his tail was stroking her breast fondly.

She grinned sheepishly, taking a larger swig of cider than she probably should have (for scientific purposes).

Vegeta stopped at push up1954. He rolled back on his haunches, his tail plucking the drink from her hand and pulling it to him.

She almost giggled. He downed the rest, smacking his lips in a very  _un_ -Vegeta like way. "Are you sure there is nothing else in this concoction of yours?" she was delighted to see his eyes were slightly dilated. And they should be-he drank a whole damn barrel.

"No." she squeaked, hiding her smile. "Nothing else _._ "  _Except 6 gallons of Rum in each 10 gallon barrel._

It was a bit much, she had to admit. But as long as the Prince hadn't had apple cider before (which really didn't seem like an intergalactic drink) and didn't know what rum tasted like (once again, not an intergalactic drink) she was sure her experiment on seeing whether you could get a Saiyan drunk would work out smoothly.

She'd only had a few glasses and was already fuzzy from the drink, but it didn't seem to affect Vegeta too much.

_Except for his tail_. He usually kept his tail in check, but even now, it roamed over her body nonchalantly, causing butterflies to erupt as it flicked at her upper thigh, poking under her skirt.

He held out the drink. "More." his body was covered in sweat and Bulma hoped his dehydrated state would make this a little easier. She stumbled up, sashaying her hips as she walked towards where her barrels of cider were. She couldn't help but smirk as she felt his gaze on her the whole time. She ladled the drink into the cup (where did her cup roll off to?) taking a sip before filling it to the brim and sauntering back over to him.

He watched her the whole time, snatching the drink out her hand, drinking heavily from it. Never taking his eyes off her.

Her whole body felt like it was on fire. His face seemed to flush more, as his eyes narrowed. His tail wrapped around her waist, pulling her hard into his lap.

"There is some kind of poison in this, isn't there. Their faces were mere centimeters away. His words were  _finally_  starting to slur slightly as he looked at her.

She tried to scowl. "No-not... _poison_." His hands gripped the back of her head.

"What?" he seethed.

"Rum...it's alcohol." She lifted her chin. "I was wondering how much faster Saiyan's metabolism could break down alcohol than humans." Really, she just wanted to get him drunk, but that's besides the point.

"What does it do?"

Bulma felt her fingers trail up his chest. He didn't protest. "Well, it makes you feel the way you do right now. All fuzzy and..." she swallowed. "wanting to do something you normally wouldn't want to do."

His eyes pierced hers. He was watching her lips. "Like this." he pulled him the back of her head roughly and smashed his lips to hers. She moaned, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck. Her mouth was open and his tongue slid against hers. Her body was electric as she pressed herself fully against him.

As quickly as he kissed her he pulled back, pushing her off him. His face was fully flushed and he looked away. "Then your experiment was for nothing." he huffed, curling his tail around his waist. "I do not feel such things."

He stalked into the house.

She grinned.

_Success._

 


	22. Nightmares

Bulma gripped the chopping knife in her hand tightly, her heart beating erratically in her ears as the storming foot prints got closer. She tried to focus on the task her mother had given her-chopping potatoes for dinner, but once the foot prints stopped and the house became quite, there was a thunk of the knife hitting the cutting board and Bulma couldn't find the strength to lift the knife.

She could feel Vegeta's eyes on her. She could hear his heavy breathing-but that could have been her imagination.

"You smell different." His voice was in her ear, his hand on her knife wielding hand. His tail wrapped protectively around her and he inhaled deeply.

Her stomach dropped. They were alone in the house- Bulma's mother ran off to the store to pick up some last minute preparations for dinner, her father in his animal sanctuary, she wasn't even sure if Yamcha still lived there-it was one of those rare moments that outside the bedroom that Vegeta touched her. Hell, did more than yell and glare at her.

She dropped the knife and his hand left her wrist and wrapped around her middle, pulling her close to him. He inhaled again.

Bulma was use to his tender touches in the bedroom, or in passing on their way to their separate rooms. But this was  _different_. Bulma, being the scientist that she was, summarized that he couldn't help it. If her scent  _had_  changes (which it does in other animals), his protective instincts would kick in.

She swallowed thickly as he untangled himself from her to spin her around, one hand coming up to stroke her chin. His brows furrowed as he searched her eyes.

"What is different woman?" He still never said her name, but when he called her woman like  _that_ , it made her feel like she was the only woman in the world.

Her stomach churned as she took a steady breath.

"I'm pregnant."

He froze.

The last year and a half flashed before her eyes; the tension filled shouting matches across the house, the bickering late night gravity room fixes. The angry tearing of clothes and equally ferocious kisses as he pressed her against the control panel. Their late nights on the roof, neither talking as they looked up at the stars.

The night Vegeta told her about his mother, about his home planet. It was the night that she knew she would love no other man.

The night he crashed into her room, bursting the door into a million pieces before scoping her into his arms and  _truly_ making love for the first time. The night she thought that he might love her back.

That he might not be able to love another woman.

He pulled back slightly, brows furrowing slightly. His tail unwrapped from her.

A lump formed in her throat. "Did you hear what I said!" He remained silent as her nightmares resurfaced.

_Prince Vegeta wouldn't want a dirty halfbreed for a child. You were just a stupid human toy for his enjoyment. Something to be discarded._

His blank face made blood rise to her face. Her heart was ringing in her ears as she put all her weight into her hands, pushing him roughly.

He staggered back, eyes now slightly wide.

She pushed the tears back as she swallowed the lump in her throat. "That's why!" She pushed the sound of his disgust away. The off handed way he said 'just kill the monster.'

"Bul-"

"I don't need  _anything_ from you." her voice was shaky. "I will raise my baby  _without_ your help." The sounds of a baby cry before silence settled over the kitchen.

Vegeta's glossy eyes narrowed. He stood straight, chin tilting as his tail wrapped around his waist. She watched his Adam's apple twitch, his mouth open slightly before he nodded. "Fine." His voice was sharp and cold-like it was the first time she met him on Namek.

He turned and left.

Bulma listened as he stalked up the stairs. A loud explosion caused the compound to shake. She leaned against the counter, clutching the lip with white knuckles. She let out a low whine as the house became silent.

She collapsed on the ground, body shaking. She gripped her face and let the tears roll from her eyes, her body convulse with sobs.

Sometime later she felt the warm arms of her mother around her shoulders, whispering false promises that everything would be okay.

Vegeta never came back. Her father said he took a spaceship and left. It was for the best really.

But she wished her baby had inherited more than her purple hair. That he wasn't a constant reminder of the mistake that she made.

III

AN: So this was different.

I am SUPPOSE to be working on one of my Naruto fics...so I naturally got on Tumblr (amazing site really) and started looking at VB pictures, saw an inspiring pic and wrote a story that had ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with the picture.

Funny how that works out.

I hope this wasn't confusing.

I always imagined Vegeta to be a big softie, once he decided he didn't want to kill you. Especially when it comes to Bulma. I also feel that maybe Vegeta's anger towards Bulma and Baby Trunks could have been Bulma's fault. She jumps to conclusions that Vegeta doesn't want anything to do with Trunks and gets super defensive (because Bulma has been known to overreact).

Because if Vegeta really didn't want Trunks to be alive, his dna in a half Saiyan baby, he would have killed it. And as for not saving Bulma and Trunks making do it, maybe Vegeta wanted Bulma to feel that helplessness that he felt.

I don't know-I'm getting more in-depth than I normally go with these.

ALSO! If you think this reads slightly different (or really different) than some of the other chapters, feel free to tell me! I'm working on some stuff, so feed back would be great. Though what I'm working on isn't really involved in this chapter (a lot of dialogue stuff), but I was very conscientious about the words I wrote.

OH THE WORDS!

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this. I really enjoyed writing it. Especially Vegeta. :3


	23. Yoga

With everyone getting ready for the coming of the androids, Bulma got the itch to start her own exercise regimen.

Just...not as intense.

Unlike Yamcha's fifteen mile run/sprint, Bulma's was a bit more...calming.

She woke up at five-with the sun-and put in her Yoga video. After two months, she had already made it successfully through the beginner _and_ intermediate video. She was able to get through the her now hour routine and have breakfast (really watch her mother make breakfast) by the time Yamcha was done with his run and Vegeta was back from god knows what. After breakfast the men would go back to training and Bulma would work.

The Yoga was helping her in more ways than just helping her with her flexibility. She felt more calm throughout the day. It also helped her wake up in the mornings.

After a year of sweating it out in the morning, she was a 'Yoga Master,' being able to do every pose in all her videos.

But it wasn't anything really, she _was_ Bulma Brief, after all.

III

"What the hell are you doing?"

Bulma looked over down, which was really behind her, and rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

Vegeta was glaring at her, arms folded across his chest, tail twitching behind him. "What in the hell are you doing?" he repeated.

She took a slow breath as she slowly lowered herself out of scorpion pose. "I'm 'training.' Which, by the way, is what you should be doing right now, isn't it?"

He laughed. "You call this training!?" his hands moved to setting on his waist, his tail curling around him. "Don't make me laugh!" He laughed.

She rolled her eyes, "Whatever." she moved through upward to downward dog slowly before moving into warrior pose.

She felt his eyes on her. "You're training is even more pathetic than the human male's."

She rolled her eyes again. "Well, if it's so easy, why don't you come and try it?"

She snorted as he stalked over to where she was, now in warrior 3. He stared at her before mimicking her stance. She watched and frowned. "No. You're doing it wrong, stupid." she stood and and walked to him.

He all but growled. "You dare call me stupid!?" he hissed, "Woman I can kill you."

"Oh yes, I've heard that one before." she kicked at his left leg. "You're cheating with that leg, broaden your stance." she grabbed his hips and jerked. "Move them this way." he just glared angrily at her. She knew why, but she wasn't about to dwell on the fact she was _touching_ the Prince.

"There, warrior one."

Vegeta snorted. "Human warriors are so weak." he eyed the video as the lady lowered on the ground.

"What now, Woman?!"

Bulma sighed, pinching her cheek. "You missed Mountain, back to dog." she paused the video. "Come on."

III

Bulma hated Crane position.

Bulma almost hated crane as much as she _hated_ the fact that Vegeta was participating in _her_ yoga time.

_Four damn days a week._

"This is so simple _._ " he laughed.

"Then why are you here?"

He never had a response. But the _Prince of All Saiyans_ doesn't need a response.

She fell back on her heels in frustration as Vegeta laughed. "So pathetic, Woman!"

She was about to snap when she realized something.

His tail.

It wasn't around his waist, or even flicking around like it usually did. His bulging muscles would twitch ever so slightly, and his tail would shift.

She watched as his weight shifted again, his tail moved a bit more.

A light bulb clicked.

_Sonofabitch!_

She took a steady breath before sighing dramatically. "I just don't know _how_ you manage Vegeta!" she held a hand to her head for effect. "I suppose that my being a female human makes me no match for your Saiyan-ness."

He smirked.

She sighed again. "I'm going to get something to drink. My human body just can't take all this exertion." _If he falls for this, he really is stupid._

He shrugged while in crane. She wanted to push him down (but doubted she actually could). "Do what you want woman."

She grinned as she got to her feet and all but ran out of the room.

III

"Come back to see how this is really done, Woman?" Vegeta couldn't contain his snarky tone.

"Oh yes." He heard the clinking sound of ice hitting her glass. "Wouldn't miss this for the world."

He was in what the woman called "eight angle pose" when he felt Bulma's presence behind him.

"You're doing it wrong."

It was the tone of her voice that sent off the warning bells, but he hesitated (true Saiyan warriors do _not_ hesitate!).

She had his tail in a tight grip and with a quick burst of pain, Vegeta let out a strangled yelp and fell forward on his face.

She stepped on his back, between his shoulder blades and leaned in close, "Now, do it again. From the beginning, you monkey bastard." she dangled his tail in front of his wide, angry eyes."

He swung his legs around, knocking hers from underneath him and before she could blink, he had her pinned to her little squishy mat.

"I'll kill you!" he seethed. He had her by the wrist and was squeezing them dangerously tight.

She _laughed_. "But I still have your _tail_!" she moved her wrist as best she could, emphasizing her capture of his brown appendage.

He laughed, "You did me a favor woman. I didn't need that anymore-it was only holding me back!"

"Then do the video again." her voice was low.

He swallowed, not knowing how to take her calm voice. He looked back to the video to see the woman doing scorpion pose.

He swallowed before a sneer crossed his features.

"The Prince of Saiyans has no need for such childish workouts. If you want me to save your little, weak, planet, I will have to have you fix the gravity room _again_.

She frowned. "It's not broken."

His whisper was hoarse as he leaned in farther. "Are you sure?"

She struggled against him. "Dammit, Vegeta! Don't be proud of breaking my things!"

"If you made them suitable for me-" he eased up a bit so she could thrash more. "You wouldn't have to fix it all the time."

The front door slammed and they both looked towards the door before Vegeta slithered off her.

"I expect it fixed before lunch."

He was out of the room before he heard her screeched "I have your fucking tail, ass hole!"

He smirked.


	24. Baseball

Bulma bit her lip as she tipped her sunglasses down to see him properly. Her heart tugged lightly as she straightened her glasses, reaching over to the small table next to her lawn chair and pressing her ice cold lemonade to her lips.

She took a deep sip.

 _He's been like this for_ three _months..._ She placed the glass back down, clearing her throat slightly before picking up her magazine out of her lap.

She peered over at him again.

Vegeta was sitting on the grass at the edge of the yard, as he did most days. He was slightly hunched over in his blue Saiyan uniform, his tail wrapped around his leg. He didn't move much. Didn't talk. Didn't train. Didn't _eat_ (and if he really was the same species that Goku was, that was really worrisome).

He just...sat there...thinking...

The memory of him almost ripping her to shreds on Namek itched at the back of her mind as she watched him curl at little bit more into himself as he sat there.

“There's got to be something...” she whispered to herself.

The sound of a car door slamming made an idea snap to the forefront of her mind. She smiled to herself before slamming the magazine shut and running towards the front of the house.

She passed Vegeta. He didn't even flinch.

III

“You want me to do _what_?!” She had anticipated this, but she couldn't help it. She felt bad for the guy.

“I want you to do something with Vegeta. Take him to one of your ball games. Train or spar with him or something.” Yamcha continued to glare at her.

“I get that you wanted to give him a place to stay, Bulma.” Yamcha said, leaning against his car. He ran a hand through his newly cut hair. It seemed to continue to run through ghost strands. Bulma wished he hadn't cut it so short. “But I doubt that the psychopath wants to go _catch a game_. Maybe kill everyone-”

“You know he's not all bad.” this was a common dance between them. At first, Yamcha didn't like the thought the man that had him killed sleeping under the same roof as him and Bulma, and told her often how he tried to kill her. But after a few days of seeing Vegeta... “brood”...Yamcha just ignored him.

Bulma smiled sweetly. “Please. Just-just get him out of this mood he's in. For me?” Yamcha frowned as Bulma moved closer, wrapping her arms around him. “Just once.”

Yamcha sighed-Bulma cheered internally, she had him. “If he agrees.” she squealed and hugged him tightly. He returned it a bit less enthusiastically. “But if he so much as looks at anyone with mild interest, I'm calling Gohan.”

Bulma pulled away, a mocking smile on her lips, “What? You can't handle one bad guy by yourself? You need to call in a five year old?” she squealed again as Yamcha lifted her off the ground and slung her over his shoulder.

“You know he's almost _six_.”

III

Yamcha had never been so unnerved in his life.

He couldn't even focus on the game.

First, it had been the fact that Vegeta had _agreed_ to come to the game. Sure, he'd gave them a few suspicious glances but then shrugged his shoulders.

Then, Bulma bought him some clothes. Some human clothes. A pair of khaki pants and a pink shirt (he would have at least looked for something blue) with some sneakers. Vegeta didn't complain. He didn't argue. He just put it on with a small snort.

And _now_ he sat in the seat next to Yamcha, elbow resting on the chair arm, chin on his palm, looking bored, but attentive. He watched with his eyes as the ball moved from player to player.

He didn't ask what the point was, how to play, what the rules were.

He just sat there.

It was very unnerving.

“Uh...Ya know...V-Vegeta...” the Saiyan Prince didn't look at him. But he wasn't dead, so he took it as a good sign. “If-if there is anything you want to talk about...anything-”

“Shut up.” Vegeta's voice didn't really hold the malice it usually did. It sounded bored and a little tired.

Yamcha didn't know how to take it. It was the first time Vegeta had really spoke since he moved in and Yamcha had almost forgotten what he sounded like.

He sounded like he needed a drink.

Yamcha turned, eyes landing on a beer man a few rows up. “Hey!” he waved to the guy. The man was an short old man with a long, grey, handle bar mustache. “How many?” he had a cooler strapped around his neck with about ten beers sticking out of the ice.

Yamcha looked over to Vegeta. “I'll take 'em all. And keep them coming.” Yamcha pulled out the Capsule Corp. company credit card.

Bulma would understand.

The old man's eyes gleamed as he shakily took the card. “Oh yes, sir. Right away.” the man dropped the cooler and scampered away, looking at the credit card in all lights.

Yamcha opened one and held it out to Vegeta. “Drink it.”

Vegeta looked at it but took it, watching Yamcha as he opened his own and took a sip. “What is it?” He sniffed it cautiously.

“Its liquor. You have that in space?”

Vegeta stared blankly. Yamcha couldn't help but laugh. “Drink a lot. I have a feeling you're going to need it to feel it.”

“Feel what, human?” Vegeta took a careful sip. He didn't cringe like Yamcha did his first time tasting beer, but, realistically, he'd never really seen Goku say no to any food.

Yamcha gave him a knowing smirk. “Drunk.”

III

“I can't believe you, Yamcha.” Bulma's eyes were lit with fire as she tired to hold Vegeta up. Which Yamcha was really doing. “I said to take him to a ball game. Not get him shit faced.”

They had somehow made it home-the car drove itself thankfully. Though Yamcha hadn't had nearly as many drinks as Vegeta, he was still pretty trashed. Bulma had been waiting for them at the drive way, hands on her hips, tapping her foot and looking very, very pissed. Vegeta pulled away from him slightly, leaning a bit on Bulma. “For a hideous woman, Woman,” his words were _very_ slurred “you are the most beautiful thing in the universe.”

“Can it.” she seethed as she slipped out of his grip. Yamcha almost dropped him as Bulma opened the door to the house. “Just leave him on the couch.” she waved her hand as she headed towards the stairs. That left Yamcha to drag him into the living room.

“She does have a remarkable ass.” Vegeta commented.

“Yeah, well that's my girl you're saying that about.” he unceremoniously dropped Vegeta on the couch.

Vegeta frowned. “That does not hinder the fact-”

“Yes, but you don't say that to other males.” Yamcha pinched his nose. “What do Saiyan's do?”

Vegeta became very still. “I don't know.” his voice was suddenly somber. He clumsily started peeling off his shirt. “I never met a Saiyan woman besides my mother.”

Yamcha felt his stomach drop as guilt filled him. “I'm-I'm sure that Saiyan men would kill other men for talking about their woman's ass.”

Vegeta shook his head before nodding. “Yes. I feel that is the truth.”

Vegeta stared at the foot of the couch for the longest time. Yamcha took a step back and was about to spin on his heel before Vegeta spoke again. “Have you ever woken up and realized that you are completely alone in the universe? You are not nearly as great as you once thought? That you are _nothing_ compared to the rest of the universe?”

Yamcha stared wide eyed at Vegeta for a moment. “You're not really alone, Vegeta.” he took a shaky breath. “You got me and B. And Goku and Gohan are Saiyans...” Yamcha ran a hand through his hair.

Vegeta said nothing for a while.

“Just-just get some sleep.” Yamcha said, quickly turning on his heel before moving out of the room.

“Human.” Vegeta called as Yamcha made his escape into the hallway. “I apologize for my words. As you said at the place with the weak humans and their little sticks: I feel 'drunk.' I won't make remarks about your female again.”

Yamcha smiled warmly. “No problem bud. And if you need someone to spar or train with-”

Vegeta laughed. It was a familiar laugh that haunted him in his dreams. “I do not need some weakling like you to train with. I will become the strongest Saiyan in the universe!”

“Well there are only two of you so you can stop gloating and shut the fuck up! Some of us want to sleep!” Bulma screamed from the stairs. “Hurry up, Yamcha!”

Vegeta's laugh softened before he collapsed on the couch. Yamcha watched for a moment before leaving. _Poor guy._


	25. Cider

Bulma was a woman of science. It was in her nature to be...curious.

She had always known that Goku was a strange creature. I mean...he had a _tail_. Little boys didn't have tails (well...except Gohan. But she chalked that up to genetics.) But there were some things that she couldn't test with her small, now large friend.

But now, she had a new test subject.

“What in the hell is this!? Poison?” Vegeta snarled. He sniffed the glass she offered him.

She sighed. “It's called 'Apple Cider.' You know apple, right?”

He looked at her disgustingly. “Do not patronize me, woman.” he sniffed it again. “It's not just apples.” he looked at her skeptically. “What else is in there?”

She leaned back on her heels. “Well, you know there's sugar...and cinnamon...you know cin-”

“ _Woman.”_ he said dangerously.

She crossed her arms, “And something called 'allspice.'” she huffed. “Don't worry, my mom uses it in half the food she makes.” She watched as he sniffed again.

“What else?”

“Um...nutmeg? I think?” he glared at her and she sighed dramatically, plucking the drink from his hand and taking a sip. It instantly warmed her insides and stopped her knees from shaking. “See? Safe. I just want to see what you think of it since _I_ made it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Then I doubt it's edible.”

Despite herself, despite knowing better, she smacked in stomach. Unlike with her EX boyfriend, she put in all her muscles, though he didn't even seem to notice it.

He did smirk, taking a slow sip.

She watched with baited breath.

He shrugged. “It's acceptable.” he downed the rest of the tall glass in one go.

She grinned manically. “How about another? I made lots. Two barrels!” she motioned for him to follow her into the back yard.

He looked at her warily before following her into the back yard.

III

Four hours later, the sun was setting and Bulma decided her experiment wasn't going as plan, but it did have minimal success, so she considered it a victory.

Vegeta's cheeks were slightly flush, but that _could_ be because of the 1000 push ups he was doing. She made note of how his muscles twitched (for scientific purposes) and how he allowed her to sit very close. Close enough that his tail was stroking her breast fondly.

She grinned sheepishly, taking a larger swig of cider than she probably should have (for scientific purposes).

Vegeta stopped at push up1954. He rolled back on his haunches, his tail plucking the drink from her hand and pulling it to him.

She almost giggled. He downed the rest, smacking his lips in a very _un_ -Vegeta like way. “Are you sure there is nothing else in this concoction of yours?” she was delighted to see his eyes were slightly dilated. And they should be-he drank a whole damn barrel.

“No.” she squeaked, hiding her smile. “Nothing else _._ ” _Except 6 gallons of Rum in each 10 gallon barrel._

It was a bit much, she had to admit. But as long as the Prince hadn't had apple cider before (which really didn't seem like an intergalactic drink) and didn't know what rum tasted like (once again, not an intergalactic drink) she was sure her experiment on seeing whether you could get a Saiyan drunk would work out smoothly.

She'd only had a few glasses and was already fuzzy from the drink, but it didn't seem to affect Vegeta too much.

 _Except for his tail_. He usually kept his tail in check, but even now, it roamed over her body nonchalantly, causing butterflies to erupt as it flicked at her upper thigh, poking under her skirt.

He held out the drink. “More.” his body was covered in sweat and Bulma hoped his dehydrated state would make this a little easier. She stumbled up, sashaying her hips as she walked towards where her barrels of cider were. She couldn't help but smirk as she felt his gaze on her the whole time. She ladled the drink into the cup (where did her cup roll off to?) taking a sip before filling it to the brim and sauntering back over to him.

He watched her the whole time, snatching the drink out her hand, drinking heavily from it. Never taking his eyes off her.

Her whole body felt like it was on fire. His face seemed to flush more, as his eyes narrowed. His tail wrapped around her waist, pulling her hard into his lap.

“There is some kind of poison in this, isn't there. Their faces were mere centimeters away. His words were _finally_ starting to slur slightly as he looked at her.

She tried to scowl. “No-not... _poison_.” His hands gripped the back of her head.

“What?” he seethed.

“Rum...it's alcohol.” She lifted her chin. “I was wondering how much faster Saiyan's metabolism could break down alcohol than humans.” Really, she just wanted to get him drunk, but that's besides the point.

“What does it do?”

Bulma felt her fingers trail up his chest. He didn't protest. “Well, it makes you feel the way you do right now. All fuzzy and...” she swallowed. “wanting to do something you normally wouldn't want to do.”

His eyes pierced hers. He was watching her lips. “Like this.” he pulled him the back of her head roughly and smashed his lips to hers. She moaned, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck. Her mouth was open and his tongue slid against hers. Her body was electric as she pressed herself fully against him.

As quickly as he kissed her he pulled back, pushing her off him. His face was fully flushed and he looked away. “Then your experiment was for nothing.” he huffed, curling his tail around his waist. “I do not feel such things.”

He stalked into the house.

She grinned.

_Success._

 


	26. Drumstick

Bulma was preparing dinner-drumsticks-when there was a large crash from the backdoor. Bulma would have ignored it-Vegeta is always crashing things-if it hadn't been for rough hands grabbing her hips. His tail wrapped around her wrist. She gasped.

“Vegeta! I'm not done-” a low growl stopped her. Her heart spike when she realized the _heat_. And the smell.

The strong smell of sweat with the fire from his burning hands made her mouth dry. He ran his hands roughly up her sides before moving back down, his growling grew louder. Her whole body tingled as his breathing became harsh against her neck. His tail pulled harshly at her wrist, dragging up her half spiced, very raw, chicken leg. She watched as his eyes gleamed, his mouth watering as she watched, as if everything was in slow motion, her hand go up to his mouth and he devoured the drumstick whole.

She swallowed thickly as he removed the chicken bone from his mouth and trailed his hot tounge down her hand, lapping up the chicken juices before it reached her elbox.

“Ah!” he smack his lips together, as if he just drank a glass of ice cold water.

And with that, he stormed back out of the kitchen, slamming the door shut.

Bulma watched him leave, slightly frazzle. She closed her mouth, coughed loudly and looked around the kitchen aimlessly. She felt dizzy as she picked up another drumstick. She giggled, waving the drumstick. “I think I'll start preparing dinner more often.”

 


	27. Like Clockwork

Bulma always had one rule with her children.

Never. Bring. Anyone. Home.

There were a few reasons for this. The house could be a mess (between Bra and Vegeta's little fits or her own experiments). There might not be any food (see above) or just out of respect. But Bulma knew that Trunks (poor, poor Trunks) would be the first to make the mistake.

Because they'd have to leave the solar system if it was Bra.

The young girl's name was Mindy (Bulma learned later). She was beautiful and had an air about her that she was mildly intelligent. (It was Vegeta actually who told his son not to waste time on those of lesser intellict than himself). She was wearing one of Trunk's work out shirts (and Bulma didn't really think there was anything underneath), curled up in a chair in the kitchen with a steaming cup of something. She was surprised at the sight of Bulma, but kept her cool.

“Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't realize anyone else would be up for-”

“Yes, yes, how long do you plan on staying?” her eyes drifted to the clock.

The girl hesitated. “Oh! I'm so sorry! This is-this is embarrassing! I didn't-”

Bulma heard the creaking from upstairs. “Nevermind.” She waved the girl off. “He's like clockwork.”

She sighed, “Yeah...”

Bulma raised a brow, but moved over to the stove. “Hungry?” She pressed a button and the stove came to life. Having three Saiyans in the house, Bulma couldn't rely on conventional cooking. She looked over to Mindy, who was watching the stove cook three dozen eggs and about a pigs worth of bacon and sausage with amazement.

Bulma went to make coffee. “I've always warned Trunks not to have uninvited guest.”

The girl blushed. “Well, it's my fault really. I convienced him it wouldn't be a big deal. I mean, in this day in age...” she trailed off, her face blushing brightly. “I'm sorry I assumed too much. It was really all my-”

Bulma waved her off, “Oh girl, when I was younger than you my boyfriend lived here.” Her eyes sparkled. “But that was before my husband.”

The girl pressed her cup to her lips and jumped at the sound of the soft footprints. There was a _phooming_ sound and Bulma caught the Orange Juice bottle with ease. Vegeta, in all his glory came marching in. He grabbed the orange juice bottle out of Bulma's hand and drank.

And drank.

And drank.

“How long?” he said before pressing the almost empty jug back to his mouth.

Bulma smiled coily. “Thirty-seven minutes.” She kept pushing at his tail so it wouldn't wrap around her.

Vegeta nodded, freezing when he noticed the young girl looking terrified. “Who is this?”

“A friend of Trunks'.”

Vegeta looked to his wife and snorted. “Friend?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

Vegeta destroyed the jug with a small ki blast. The girl jumped. Vegeta ignored her. “I'll be in the Gravity Room.”

And then he was gone.

The kitchen was silent for a few minutes.

“Does-does he always have that?” the girl waggled her pointer finger.

Bulma shook her head. “It comes and goes.”

“Ah.”

Silence.

Bra made her entrance six minutes after her father left, rumaging through the fridge for a smaller jug of orange juice and drinking it like her father.

Nine minutes later (three minutes earlier than usual) Trunks came barreling through the kitchen.

“Oh god, Father!”

Bulma pulled the steaming pot of coffee from it's holster and poured more coffee into Mindy's cup. “More coffee?” The girl's hands were still shaking.

Bra looked between her mother and the girl. “He finds training in the nude increases his power faster.”

The girl stood abruptly. “Thank you, Mrs. Briefs for the tea.” She smiled slightly dazed at Bulma before moving out of the kitchen, passing Trunks. Bulma listend as the girl walked towards the living room and out the front door.

The only sound was the sound of sizzling bacon.

“Mother, please tell me-” he sank to the floor.

Bulma tutted loudly. “I've always told you kids never to have uninvited guest.”

“You could at least tell Father to put on some _pants_.”

The room was again silent.

“You could tell your booty-call not to come down stairs until 8.”

“Mother!”

Bulma smiled behind her cup of coffee. “Your sister is right.”

 


	28. Snow

Bulma watched them from the window. Her heart melting in a pool as she leaned on the wall for support.

The snow was still falling as she watched the two men in her life work. Trunks, bundled in more than necessary Capsule Corp Artic gear (he looked like a dark blue puff with a scowl that could melt any snow), was hurriedly building a mass fortress. Which, for a three year old, wasn't very tall. Vegeta, who was on the opposite side of the yard, (and wearing his normal gym shorts and shoes) was busy building his own snow fortress. From the look of it, it wasn't going to be as tall, in proportion, to Trunks' but it wasn't going to be as sturdy, but not bad for a first try. They both had a quite an arsenal so snow balls behind them.

She just hoped Vegeta wasn't going to take their battle _too_ seriously.

She smiled as a bit of Vegeta's shelter crumbled at a gust of wind. _Though Trunks might get him through that_.

Vegeta stood up sharply. “You ready boy?”

Trunks looked wide eyed at his father. He shook his head violently (he probably couldn't talk due to the giant purple scarf around his face).

Vegeta laughed, “Good. A true Saiyan warrior is ready even when he's not.”

Trunk's eyes widened as Vegeta's long tail snatched up a snowball and tossed it (softly in Vegeta term-deadly to a normal toddler) at his son.

Trunks dived behind his sturdier shelter. From this angle, Bulma could see Trunks' own tail whip out and lob a snow ball over the wall. Trunks peaked his head over to see it fall a few feet shy of it's target. Vegeta laughed as he tossed another (Bulma prayed was softly), landing square of her baby's face.

“You call that a throw boy!?” Vegeta laughed arogantly. “You are too weak.” Bulma glared at Vegeta, who was standing in front of his shelter, arms crossed, legs spread like he was gloating over a victory over some alien race instead of with his three year old son.

They both barely saw the snowball before it hit Vegeta inbetween the legs, making his face pale. Trunks squealed with laughter as his father collapsed. Bulma frowned. In the few moments she wasn't looking, Trunks had stripped himself to his base layer t-shirt, his coat, gloves, scarf, sweatshirt light jacket, thick jacket, and parka were skewed across his “camp.” The boy had his father's smirk as he tossed a snowball up, catching it softly in his hand.

Bulma smirked as the boy hurled it with unnatural strenth. It bounced before smack Vegeta in the face.

Vegeta cursed loudly, his energy shaking the house.

His little snow shelter crumbled as he staggered to his feet. Trunks too a small step back, tail wrapping around three or four snowballs, and he held two in each hand. He crouched slightly, but didn't back all the way down as his father went Super.

Bulma was torn. Vegeta was charging a ki blast when Trunks screamed. He dashed through the snow, arms raised high before he flung all his ammo. Most of them fell around him but the two in his hand flew quickly. Vegeta dodged one but, the other hit him square in the chest.

Vegeta froze, eyes widening. Trunks also stopped, his mouth opened slightly.

Vegeta's energy returned to normal as he staggared. He started coughly and swaying until he was a few feet from Trunks.

“Boy-!” he gasped, grabbing his chest. “You've-you've-” Vegeta dramatically collasped.

Bulma shrugged her shoulders. _7 out of 10_.

But Trunks...

“Dad!” He screamed, falling to his father's side. “Dad!” He shook his father a few times before his eyes went wide. “Mom! Mom! I killed-”

Like a whale breeching the surface of the ocean, Vegeta rose from the snow. But, unlike a whale, he roared loudly. Trunks screamed as a white wave engulfed him, taking him down.

Bulma rolled her eyes as Trunks' screams became giggles.

The phone rang. She turned to get it off the wall

“Hey Chi-Chi.” Bulma said as she returned to the window. “Nothing really, just...supervising...” Bulma watched with a frown as Vegeta picked up his son by the tail and flung him into the once snow fortress of the Prince of Saiyans. Trunks didn't appear for a few moments. When Vegeta went to inspect, Trunks sprung out of the snow pile, 'tackling' his father to the ground.

Bulma watched curiously as Vegeta would do something to Trunks' and Trunks copy, and to her amazement, seem to put his pride aside to let Trunks believe he was defeated.

She wasn't listening to Chi-Chi.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, but Trunks can't play with Goten today. He's busy.” This time Trunks tossed a snowball with his tail and it went soaring, splatting on Vegeta's head. “And besides,” Vegeta was nodding at the boy, before scoping up the red nose, pink cheeked boy. The boy wrapped his arms around his dad's neck. Their tails intertwined. “don't you think it's too cold for them to play outside today?”

Bulma hung up the phone and leaned against the wall for support.


	29. Purple Stranger

"Here you go, kiddo." Trunks thanked him for the ice cream, taking it carefully in his hands.  
Trunks liked this guy. Ever since he found him at the park near his house when he was six, he'd liked him (though he doubted his mom would like him talking to strangers).

And he was a strange one.

He always wore a long blue coat, the hood pulled over his head, hiding almost his whole face. He had cool black boots and familiar eyes. He felt comfortable with the older stranger (though he could never tell his age; sometimes he seemed old-like dad old, and other times he looked young-Gohan young.) Maybe he was a little too comfortable, but, if thought about it, he could probably kick his ass.

Maybe.

They sat on a brick half wall near his school. They sat in silence for a few moments before the stranger spoke. "Anything exciting happen since I last saw you?" He asked. Trunks giggled as the man's purple tail felt him up. That was what he liked the best about this guy.

His purple tail.

"Not really." He said, looking down at the ice cream. He always got Trunks something to eat. And it was  _always_  the one of his favorite things to eat too. Trunks thought he should really be more concerned about this guy. But as the tail tapped the top of his head, he smirked, looking up to the guy. "Not since Uncle Tarble showed up."

The man looked at him interested. "Who's 'Uncle Tarble?'"

Trunks watched him curiously. He always asked odd questions and always gave interesting reactions. "My dad's brother." Trunks watched as the man's eyes widened under his hood. "Your father has a brother?"

"Yeah!" Trunks turned to face him, careful not to spill his ice cream cone. "He's pretty weak though." Trunks laughed. "I bet his wife could beat him up!"

He cackled. The man chuckled next to him. "Oh really?"

"Yeah, he got real scared of some bad guys, and came here to beg for dad's help! Dad had Goten and me take care of them!" He snickered, "They were no match for me and Goten!"

"Oh really?" The man seemed impressed. "You dad didn't help out at all?"

"Nope." Trunks figured the guy would never know the difference.

"Hmm…" Trunks scowled at him. The sound he made pissed him off.

"You don't believe me."

"You seem pretty strong." The man mused. He lifted a hand, ruffling Trunks' hair. "But you are still just a little guy."

Trunks jumped down from the wall, raising his fist. "Yeah! I bet I could kick  _your_ ass!" Trunks' eyes went wide. "Don't-don't tell my mom I said that."

"What? You threaten me?"

"No." Trunks flushed. "Ass."

The man's laugh sent a chill down Trunks' spine. It sounded a lot like his fathers. "Don't worry. Your ass comments are safe with me." The man jumped off the wall, his coat billowing slightly. Trunks was a bit in awe. "And as for kicking my ass, I doubt it." The man squatted down next to him, his tail gripping Trunks' hand and pulling him close. "I'm pretty strong." Trunks ripped himself free (easier than he should have been able to) and folded his arms, making a small  _humph_  sound. The man chuckled. "You get that from your dad?"

Trunks shrugged, his face burning. "No."

The man smiled softly under his hood. "You get to spend a lot of time with him huh?"

 _This guy was so weird._  He always asked about him spending time with his dad. If they trained together. What else they did together. No matter when or where they met, he always asked about it. He was certain this guy had to know his father, but he wasn't sure how. Dad didn't know anyone (outside Mom's close friends).

"Not as much as before Bra."

"What's 'Bra?'"

Trunks frowned, eatting the rest of his ice cream. "My baby sister." He didn't hate his little sister. Besides her crying, she didn't do anything else. Except take up his dad's time. If he wasn't training, he was in her room, guarding. He really shouldn't be jealous of her. She was only a few months old, but Trunks couldn't help it.

His mother had tried to warn him something like this would happen. But not even she imagined he'd be this over protective. His mother couldn't even coaxed him out of Bra's room  _with food._

Trunks knew he was being unfair, but he couldn't help it.

" _Sister_ -" Trunks turned to see the man was standing up now, with a goofy smile on his face. Trunks didn't like how much the man towered over him.

"You're so weird." Trunks punched the man in the gut. The man toppled over, obviously not expecting it. His long coat came over his head and it was then that Trunks saw the inner lining of his jacket. it was white with little red insigne in a neat pattern. Trunks had only seen those patterns before. There was one on the door to the gravity room. It was the mark of a Saiyan.

Trunks walked over and bent down, looking for the guys head. "Hey! You're a Saiyan aren't you?!"

He flipped the man's hood down to see wide blue eyes staring up at him. The man had long purple hair, pulled back in a ponytail that went over his shoulder.

He kind of looked like him.

"You  _are_  a Saiyan!" Trunks jumped up and down. "That's so cool! What's your name! Are you related to my Dad!?" Trunks had always thought he'd gotten his purple traits from his mom, but maybe it was really a Saiyan thing! He tugged on the man's arms. "Come on, you gotta fight me!"

"Trunks!" Trunks froze as it felt like a bucket of ice water was sloshed on his back. He dropped the man's hood back over his face and turned quickly around, unconsciously taking a step back towards the strange Saiyan.

"Dad!"

His father wasn't looking at him, he was glaring coldly at the stranger. Trunks looked back to the man, who was slowly moving back on his hands. He was smart to fear the look in his father's eyes.

He turned around and stepped in front of the man as Vegeta came up to them.

"You're late getting home today." His father put his hands on his hips. He looked between him and the man. "Is  _this_  what kept you?"

Trunks held up his hands. "He's my friend."

Vegeta snorted, brushing past him, almost knocking him down. "Friend, mh?"

He reached out a hand. The man-the Saiyan-was hesitant to take it. His father pulled the other man to his feet. "Why are you here, boy?"

Trunks eyed the adults warily. He  _knew_  his father was the strongest man in the universe, but the man looked pretty tough himself.  _He shouldn't call him 'boy.'_

The man stared hard down at his father. "No reason, sir."

Trunks almost did a double take.  _Sir?!_

Vegeta looked skeptical. "No reason?"

The purple haired Saiyan shook his head. "None, sir."

"Yeah, dad." Trunks chimed in. "We just talk and stuff."

"About what?" Vegeta eyed his son.

Trunks shrugged. "I don't know. Stuff."

Vegeta looked the man up and then back down and nodded, apparently appeased by this answer. "Come, boy. We have to go." He turned on his heel and walked away.

Trunks stood looking at the Saiyan with the purple hair. He was watching his father. "Uh-F-Vegeta!" He called, taking a small step. "Can, can I see her?" Trunks raised a brow at the desperation in the guy's voice. Did he mean his mother?

Vegeta's back tensed. Trunks thought for a moment he was going to blast the guy into last year when he spoke curtly.

"Only this once."

III

Once the man removed his coat, Trunks started to wonder who  _would_  win in a fight.

This guy wore a black t shirt that had the sleeves ripped (probably because his giant muscled arms wouldn't fit otherwise). He reminded him off Broly. Trunks took a step towards his father.

They were in the nursery. His mom, he sensed, was in her room sleeping. His attention was on the stranger. In the few months of baby Bra's life, only his parents (and his grandparents, if his dad wasn't around) were allowed to touch her. Gohan wasn't even allowed to touch her.

And this strange man was scooping up his sister with his father at his side.

The man looked like was going to cry. He held her for a few minutes before Vegeta spoke.

"There might be another, boy. It goes by the name Buu."

The man looked at his father very seriously, before nodding. Trunks raised a brow. I _told him all about Majin Buu..._

A few more minutes went by and the man gently put Bra back in her crib. His father watched with a strange look in his eyes, flickering his attention between the stranger and Trunks.

"You are not to tell-"

"I wouldn't have the heart." The man stared down at the baby. He looked up to Vegeta. "Thank you."

Trunks gaped as his father blushed. "Yes, well-eh-the same to you too." Vegeta took a deep breath and his usual scowl slid into place. "Leave."

The man grinned. "Yes, father."

III

Trunks watched as the two left the nursery and headed down the steps. Trunks looked around quickly, grabbing the discarded jacket and tossing it into his room on the way to follow them. By the time he made it down stairs they were already in the backyard.

"Trunks told me about Buu. And... about what you did."

"The boy knows nothing." Vegeta snapped. The man laughed.

"I'm proud of you, Father." The man turned to face Vegeta. He clapped him on the shoulder. "Keep your family safe."

His father snorted. "Take care of your mother." The man nodded, pulling a capsule from his pocket. He clicked it and it expanded into a yellow spaceship.

"Trunks is a good boy." The man said as the roof rose. "You've done a good job." His father nodded.

"Don't come back." Vegeta snapped. "Do not confuse my boy."

He nodded. He climbed in his ship. He spotted Trunks at the door, and he winked. Vegeta spun and glared at Trunks, who ducked behind the door.

He watched as the spaceship take off, Trunks ran out next to his father.

The purple haired Saiyan waved cheerily. Trunks waved back. "He's so cool." His father made a noise from the back of his throat.

"You will not tell your mother of him."

He nodded. "Yeah, okay."

His father maybe the strongest man in the universe, but his mother was the scariest person in the universe and Trunks didn't want to be there when she found out his father had another son.


	30. Mount Vegeta

Bulma smiled behind her cup as she watched Vegeta and Trunks 'play' from the hallway.

It wasn't really playing. If anything, it was Vegeta ignoring the little purple monster as he was used as a jungle gym. Vegeta was sitting on the floor, his back against the couch. His legs were sprawled in front of him, with one hand flat against the carpet next to him as the other held up the remote as he flicked aimlessly through the thousands of channels on the TV, stopping only if he saw something particularly gruesome. When the scene was gone, so was the channel.

Little Trunks gripped his father's arm as he clamored up and onto his father's shoulders, halfway crawling on the couch so he could grip his father's hair as he tried to stand on his father's head. The boy's yanked on his father's tall ebony locks, his tiny toes curled around his father's left ear as he tried to make it to the top of Mount Vegeta.

And to Bulma's relief, Vegeta just sat their.

"I can't believe you're letting him do that!" Yamcha said from behind Bulma. "I'd be terrified he'd throw him across the room, let alone blast him to pieces." Yamcha made a small noise. "Just look at that!" Trunks' had slipped off Vegeta's head and was clinging to his father, one hand gripping his nose and an ear that  _looked_  painful. His little purple tail was wrapped around Vegeta's face, halfway covering his eyes. Vegeta stilled, leaning his head back slightly. The small half-Saiyan dropped to the couch with a small'Uomph' and Vegeta resumed his channel surfing.

Trunks had the same scowl that his father wore as he stood on the couch, gripping his father's hair tightly. It looked like he would try again.

But, to Bulma's horror, he let out a small cry and kicked Vegeta's neck.

Vegeta let out a howl and jumped to his feet. Trunks was flung back on the couch, but before he reached the back, Vegeta's tail gripped him tightly by the leg, flinging him forward. The Prince grasped the boy by the leg, dangling him upside down, looking at him in the eye.

Trunks looked victorious even has his face began to redden. His tail wrapped around his father's forearm as Vegeta growled menacingly at him.

Bulma gripped her coffee cup tightly as Yamcha gripped her shoulder. They watched as Trunks' grin dropped and then he barred his little teeth at Vegeta, letting out a tiny growl.

Vegeta then  _smirked_ , dropping the boy. Bulma took two steps, her cup crashing to the ground as she watched her baby plummet.

Vegeta's tail then grabbed the boy again, bracing his fall. Trunks landed on the ground with a small 'thunk.'

The boy sat their slightly dazed before he erupted into giggles.

Bulma felt an arm grip her waist. She looked up to see Yamcha staring down. She looked to see her foot almost landing on a large shard of ceramic mug and hot coffee. She looked up just in time to see Vegeta giving her a curious look before stalking off down a hallway towards the gravity room. Trunks trotting after him, their tails intertwined.


End file.
